Dangerous Game
by drjekyllmshyde
Summary: Life in Persia isn't all palaces and beauty. AU Phantom of the Opera, based heavily in Susan Kay's "Phantom". Predates the events of Leroux by several decades. Erik/OC. Changed rating to T post-completion.
1. Chapter 1

Word about the traveling man who was known only as The Magician spread like wildfire. The man dressed in funeral garb, and answered to no one. Traveling fairs were both glad and terrified for him to set up camp on their grounds; their revenue would double at least, but there was the lingering danger that even one of the many rumors which preceded him was true.

They said he had been raised by Gypsies, and had murdered his entire camp when he was only twelve years old. They said his voice alone could lure women into submission, goading them to lay with him against their will. They said his face was like that of a year old corpse, hollow and shriveled like the face o death itself. Some even ventured to say this man possessed magic so unholy, he must be the Angel of death.

For almost a year, The Magician had made his camp in Azarbaijan, a territory just south of Russia and north of Asia. A grand fair was being held just inside the Russian border, and for this event The Magician had moved north, setting up camp towards the outskirts of the fair.

The man's curious appearance and mannerisms drew even performers to his tent to investigate this strange man. His horses had no saddles and no reins, led only by their loyalty and devotion to their master. The tent was pitch black and west European in style, a strange sight in this part of the world. The Magician himself was dressed in black from head to foot, even his hands covered in black by leather gloves. Even his face was covered by a black leather mask, covering everything but his chin and bottom lip. He held himself like a demigod, with a commanding presence no one could pinpoint the source of. He was easily a good head taller than most of the residents of the fair, and almost skeletally thin.

The Magician's act was something not to be believed. Donations were taken at entrance of the tent, and coins were eagerly placed into the porcelain urn set up on a table by the tent flap. People crowded inside, filling the tent beyond capacity. Children brave enough to enter sat on their father's shoulders, mothers stood on tip-toe to get a look at the strange man standing in an upright coffin at the back of the tent. Just as the crowd was beginning to wonder if the man in the coffin was actually dead, a sound began to fill the tent.

It was music, a voice so sweet some women began to weep. The voice sang a Latin requiem to the man in the coffin, who's lips did not move. In fact, the voice seemed to be coming from the lilies in a vase near the coffin. Suddenly the man in the coffin moved… but did not take a step. No, the man levitated from the coffin, forwards towards the crowd.

The Magician unfurled his arms producing a rose from mid air and handing it to a lovely woman nearby. The woman dropped the rose as if it were on fire, not daring to hold onto something touched by such a strange, cursed man. The act involved singing flowers, conjuring flowers and spirits of the dead, as well as the resurrection of a case of butterflies pinned for the beauty of their wings. A dove's neck was rung, and with an almost unseen movement the limp, snow-white bird was replaced by a raven, twice as large and full of life. The bird flew out of the tent, tangling its claws in the hair of a woman near the exit. Children shrieked, and women fainted, but the best was yet to come.

Moving back in front of the coffin, The Magician waved a hand in front of his face and without any warning, the mask had vanished into thin air. Any women who had remained on their feet collapsed, and children began to cry loudly at the sight of the face like death. The powerful looking man's face was sunken and hollow, with deep set yellow eyes, and skin so pale every blue vein could be seen just under the surface. The flesh was mottled and scarred, with deep set yellow eyes sitting just above a hideous, almost absent nose. Truly the flesh looked rotten and torn, the product of a twisted man's worst nightmare.

The Magician folded his arms, and floated back into the coffin. The lid swung closed behind him, and almost instantly opened again… but the Magician and his face of death were gone. There was a murmur among the audience, too disturbed to applaud but satisfied enough to leave their donations in the urn by the door. Only when he was sure he was alone in the tent did the Magician reappear, face hidden once more behind the black leather mask.

He moved to collect the urn, sitting upright on a pillow at the front of the room to count his profits. Emptying his pockets of the items he had pick pocketed off his audience, a satisfied smile had played on his lips. He had been afraid the move to Russia would cost him more money than he would make, but the one performance had made him enough to cover the cost of the move and then some. It was a lucrative choice after all.

A dark skin man in strange clothing entered the tent unbidden. The magician didn't bother so much as to look at him, storing his money and goods while he spoke. "The next show is in an hour, I will be happy to accommodate you then."

But the man stood in the doorway of the tent. "You are the man they call The Magician, are you not?"

The masked man stood languidly, but his annoyance at this intrusion was clear. "I am. Who is asking?"

"My name is Nadir Khan. I am here on behalf of the Sultan and his mother, the Khanum of Persia. Your presence is requested at the Palace of Mazenderan," the man informed him, standing with his hands clasped behind his back though he was clearly regarding the masked man with a cautious eye.

"Is it now? I regret that I must decline, I've only just arrived in Russia and have no intention of moving so soon," said the masked man with a flippant wave.

"The Sultan is prepared to make it worth your while," the Persian man stated, holding out a hefty looking leather purse. The Magician stepped forward to inspect the pay. "That will be your weekly salary for as long as the Sultan desires you. Accommodations will also be provided."

With some consideration, the Magician tucked the purse into his coat. "We will leave tomorrow morning," he stated, dismissing the man with a wave making it very clear he was still completely in control of the situation.

But the Persian did not leave. "If I'm going to travel with you, I am going to need to know your name," the dark man said plainly. He did not trust the man at all, not after seeing his performance. At least a name would make the man seem more human…

The Magician hesitated before speaking. "You may call me Erik."

"Only Erik? What about a surname?" The Persian demanded, somewhat nervously.

"No surname. Erik of Azarbaijan if my name is not enough for you. Good day, Sir." Erik waited by the entrance of the tent for the man to leave, closing and securing it behind him to pack his things for the following day's journey.


	2. Chapter 2

The journey to Persia had been an eventful one. Nearly half way to the middle palace in Mazenderan, Nadir Khan had fallen deathly ill. The small caravan stopped for three days, with great concern for the health of the caravan leader.

Something Nadir had neglected to tell Erik when they met was his status in the court of Mazenderan. Nadir was the Daroga, the police chief and something of a prince by birth. This meant that his illness struck deep within the caravan, everyone but their cargo seeming deeply concerned about the rapidly declining health of the normally fit and strong man. No effort was spared to try and heal the man, but nobody knew exactly what it was the Daroga was ill with.

Members of the caravan began to suspect The Magician with the face of death was responsible. There were too many obscurities about the man; he was too quiet, too private to be up to any good. He somehow knew their language, though everyone was sure he had never been to Persia before; such an obscure man would undoubtedly be remembered, they knew. The only thing that made the men of the caravan doubt Erik's guilt was his obvious annoyance at being stopped for so long.

The masked man dressed all in black became agitated after the first day, not content to sit still in a make-shift camp in the desert. "What exactly is wrong with him?" He demanded of one of the men in the caravan, pacing like a wildcat on the prowl.

"We're not sure. There isn't a physician to say-"

"You organized a caravan to and from Russia without hiring a physician?" Erik's eyes rolled visibly under the black leather mask. "Let me see him," he demanded, but the man hesitated. Erik glared and spoke more firmly. "Well, let me see him!" He had left an extremely lucrative position to travel to Persia, he wasn't about to go half way and be forced to turn back because of a pointless death.

The man seemed to have no control over himself as he led Erik into the tent which housed the Daroga. Erik could immediately see the man was ill with fever, brown face drenched in sweat as the man tossed and turned uncomfortably. The foolish man had probably drank contaminated water; God knew there was plenty of it in this part of the world.

Erik pulled up a chair by the side of the bed, and waved his hand to dismiss the man who had let him in. The man left them alone, and Erik began to work. He removed his gloves and confirmed a fever with the back of his hand, and slapped the Persian's cheek to try and rouse him with no success. He couldn't confirm water had made him ill without speaking to the man, but it was the most likely cause; everyone in the caravan had eaten the same foods, but not everyone was drinking from the same water. Erik always gathered and boiled his himself, wary of strangers after years of experience. A prince he knew would not have nearly as much knowledge of the land as he or the nomadic members of a caravan would. Yes, it was certainly water poisoning.

Moving outside the tent, Erik began to boil water and moved to his own tent to grind down herbs with a mortar and pestle. Adding some of the boiling water to the mixture of herbs, he returned to the tent much to the curiosity of the caravan. Returning with an empty mortar, the entire caravan flocked to the tent to confirm the Daroga was still alive.

The very next morning, the caravan was back on the road with the Daroga in the lead. Signaling for another man to take over the lead, Nadir fell back to ride alongside Erik, who as usual was lingering at the rear of the caravan riding bareback and without reins but still appearing plenty regal.

"How do they know where you want to go?" The Daroga asked curiously.

"They've learned to read my signals like I've learned to read theirs. I know when they need to eat and drink, they know where I want to go," he simply shrugged, turning the page of a leather-bound book he had been reading without so much as looking over at Nadir.

"What is it you're reading?"

"What do you want, Daroga?" The Persian frowned some. Someone had told Erik about his status… he had been afraid of that. Erik seemed a man who would take being escorted by a police chief the same as being taken prisoner.

"I just wanted to say thank you. I don't know what it is you made me, but the men say it saved my life."

Erik closed his book and tucked it away into one of the packs draped across the flank of his horse. "It did. Boil your water from now on, it will prevent a reoccurrence. You never mentioned you were a prince."

Nadir shrugged, "I didn't think it was of any importance."

The Magician considered this and nodded. "True. Princes in Persia are as common as fleas on camels I hear…" Nadir gave the man an offended look, which was only met with amusion.

In spite of quickening the pace, the caravan arrived in Mazenderan three full days later than anticipated. Nadir left the horses and packs with the men of the caravan, hurrying Erik inside the palace. Erik was awestruck. No matter how dark his mind or how black his moods, there was a place in his heart that was always moved by beauty. The Palace was stunning. Walls of granite and marble, accented with valuable stones and gems. The most elaborate carpets lined the floors and even more stunning tapestries ornamented the walls. Windows were large and draped with silks, doors were made of the most stunning, sturdy woods Erik had ever seen with handles of gold and diamond.

A stunning, exotic looking feline darted across Erik's path into a crack in a door to Erik's left, and Erik slipped inside. The room was luscious, lined with fabrics and pillows for lounging. There was a large chair at the center of the room, lined with stunning rubies. Erik moved to sit in the throne, eyes closed languidly. He could certainly get used to this… effortlessly he took a shard of red glass from his pocket, prying up one of the rubies in the wood and replacing it with the glad mimicry. He had used his false rubies many times before, but he would certainly prefer to begin collecting real ones.

The lithe feline wound its way between Erik's legs, purring loudly. Erik reached down and picked up the cat, placing her onto his lap to stroke her chin. As he did so, he unhooked the cat's collar in the same manner he had used to steal so many bracelets and watches in the past. The feline didn't seem to mind, reveling in the affection lavished upon her by Erik. Suddenly the door creaked open, and a lithe young woman tip-toed in.

"Shiva, here kitty kitty…" The girl's dark brown, almost black hair was plaited with a strip of pale blue fabric matching the sheer, flowing fabric she was dressed in. Her belly was covered as much as she could manage given the top of her outfit was cut just below her breasts. Clearly she was more modest in nature than whatever her position allowed. The young woman froze when she saw the man in the thrown. "I'm so sorry, I didn't think anybody was in here," she bowed in deference. "Thank God you found her! The Sultana would be so upset…"

Erik stood and brought the feline to the girl, hand brushing against hers ever so slightly. "We wouldn't want to upset the Sultana now, would we? You're not Persian are you?" Erik phrased his statement was a question, though there was clearly no doubt in his voice that he was correct.

"I… No, Sir. How did you..?" The girl stammered, eyes diverted self consciously as she pulled her shirt down as much as she could.

"I'm familiar with The People," he explained in flawless Hebrew, nearly laughing as the girl's eyes widened at the sound of her native tongue so far from home. Before she could speak Nadir walked in with great relief etched on his face

"Erik! Here you are! Please don't keep the Sultana waiting, not on your first day," the Daroga ushered The Magician out of the room, walking behind him to be sure he didn't lose him again. The girl stood wide-eyed at the events that had just occurred, so mundane yet so significant in her small, sad world. She was a stranger in a strange land, and she was no longer the only one.


	3. Chapter 3

The Sultana's lounging room was exquisite. Women lay scantily clad on pillows behind translucent curtains, only adding to their allure. Their whispers filled the room with a low hum as some dared to peek in front of the many colored fabrics to get a better look at the stranger all in black who had entered their paradise. The marble floors themselves were a work of art, gleaming in reds, browns, and whites in intricate patterns. Erik would kill to be involved in art and architecture this stunning.

At the very center of the room was an elaborate divan, upon which lounged a stunning woman, flat belly showing and large breasts peaking enticingly under their cover. This undoubtedly was the Sultan's favorite wife, the Sultana of Persia.

Erik was led inside by burly men he was certain were eunuchs, though he noticed the Daroga waited just outside. For all his persistence that they arrive in a timely manner, Erik thought this was curious. Without a word the woman on the divan stood, and the whispers in the room were silenced. She strode towards Erik with a bit of a smirk on her face, studying him intently like she might a new horse. As she approached him, hips swaying, Erik noticed her eyes fall on his face, from which they did not leave.

"You are the Magician I've heard so much about?" The woman purred, stroking a hand down Erik's chest enticingly. "How delightful."

"I am, Your Highness." If Erik was enticed by her actions, he made no move to show it. This seemed to irritate the woman some.

"What are you called, Magician?"

"I have many names, Your Highness. Most often I am called Erik."

The Sultana grinned. "How intriguing." Such a strong European name was not common in these parts, and only added to the man's mystique. "Tell me, Erik… why the mask?" The woman reached up to touch the black leather on his face, but was stopped by a firm grip.

"For reasons that are my own, Your Highness," Erik informed eunuchs moved their hands to their blades, and the Sultana glared at Erik hard before ripping her hand away to signal the men to relax.

"I will allow you to keep your privacy for now. I am not certain if our Daroga informed you, but during your stay here you are mine. When I decide I want to see your face, I will see your face," she told him threateningly.

"It was my understanding that I am under the employ of the Sultan," Erik stated plainly, and the Sultana laughed eliciting a chuckle from the girls behind the curtains.

"Erik… Who do you think it is that controls the Sultan?" The woman trailed her hand down his chest as she turned to arrange herself back on her divan. "Now. Let's have a taste of what you're capable of."

The Magician performed as bidden, though did not perform his usual act. No, the act he performed was simple to perform, though impressive to behold and certainly unique to the women. Erik was no fool; he knew this opportunity would only last so long as he could keep the sultana wanting more. If he showed her his most complicated and difficult tricks right now, his stay would undoubtedly be short.

The Sultana and her harem applauded. The sultry woman looked incredibly pleased, and Erik bowed before turning to leave. "Not just yet, Erik. I haven't dismissed you. You're a member of the Thuggee cult of India, are you not?"

Erik had to fight his every instinct not to tense. How could she possibly have known… "I can neither confirm nor deny this, Your Highness," he stated simply, hoping that would be the end of that subject.

"Do you have the rope?" The woman asked, head tipped with a sick sort of curiosity.

"Your Highness, for my own safety I cannot-" With a single gesture, two of the eunuchs approached Erik to restrain and search the masked man. In a move quick as lightening, a rope leapt out like a snake, coiling around one of the man's necks and tightening instantly. Deftly, Erik wrapped the other end of the rope around the second attacker's neck manually, pulling on the free end of the string of catgut effectively strangling both men at once. When the men had finally collapsed, the masked Magician stepped over them, uncoiling his rope gently and returning it to his coat.

There was stunned silence behind the curtains, and a sick grin creeping on the Sultana's face. "Fantastic…" She breathed, sounding nearly physically aroused by the display. "You are dismissed."

With a bow Erik quickly left, not waiting for the remaining eunuchs to let him out of the room. Nadir was waiting for him just outside, and greeted him with a nervous hand shake. "Well, did it go well?"

"Well enough. Where will I be staying?" Nadir could tell Erik did not wish to speak about whatever it was that had happened… but he knew the harem girls would spread the news around the court within minutes. It was impossible to keep secrets in a place like this.

"I've had a room prepared for you, but it would be a great honor for me if you would join me for dinner in my home first," the Daroga told him. Upon seeing Erik's hesitation, Nadir spoke again. "You saved my life, the least I can do is put a good meal in your belly on your first night."

Finally Erik consented, and the Daroga led them to another end of the court which must have been nearly a mile away. They walked through lush gardens the likes of which Erik had not expected to see in such an otherwise harsh landscape. The court of Mazenderan truly seemed like a paradise, filled with life and art the likes of which Erik had never seen. After nearly thirty minutes of walking, Nadir led them back inside and through several hallways to a set of large double doors.

Immediately a young boy hobbled over to them on crutches, and Erik could immediately see that the boy was terribly ill. The boy flung himself around his father's legs, abandoning the crutches and allowing himself to be picked up by his father.

"Reza, my boy! I hope you were good while I was gone?" Nadir asked of the boy, inspecting him closely.

"I was, Father. But you were gone longer than you said!" The boy pouted, his speech somewhat labored

Nadir frowned. "I know Reza, I'm sorry. I was ill."

"Is this him, Father? The Magician?" The boy motioned to be put down and his father obeyed. Moving over to Erik, Reza looked up at the tall man. Erik crouched to be more level with the boy, and Nadir noticed he was more cordial with an eight year old child than with any adult he had come in contact with yet. This caused Nadir to seriously question the Magician's age; he had assumed someone so dark of mind must be an adult, but how old was he really if he related more to a child than to a man?

"Hello, Reza. My name is Erik," he offered the boy a hand, and when Reza took it he shook firmly eliciting a smile from the boy.

"Would you teach me a magic trick?" Reza asked, delighted. "I've always wanted to be a magician."

Nadir chuckled. "Since when?"

Erik ignored the man. "I would be honored to teach you, Reza. I've actually be looking for an apprentice," Reza's eyes lit up and the boy took Erik's hand to lead his new friend to the dining room to eat.

After supper, Erik sent Reza to the study to wait for him while he spoke to Nadir privately.

"The boy is ill," Erik stated simply, and Nadir sighed sadly.

"Yes, he is. No physician has been able to tell me what's wrong, let alone give me a cure. Every time I leave, I come back and he's only gotten worse…"

"I've seen this before. I don't know whether it has a name, but it certainly is not common."

The Daroga hesitated in asking his next question. "…Is there anything that can be done for him?"

"Nothing except make him comfortable, and be merciful when the end is near."

The Persian man took a shaky breath and covered his mouth, "You're sure..?"

"I'm sure. He still has some time, but not long. Where is his mother?" Erik inquired.

"She died of childbed fever, not long after Reza was born."

"You had the right to take several wives for her loss. Why didn't you?"

Nadir frowned some. "Unlike many men here, I loved my wife dearly. We were one of those once in a lifetime arranged marriages that ended well. I have no interest in replacing her," Erik seemed satisfied by the man's answer, and unknown to Nadir actually developed respect for the man after that. Not everything in his life had been handed to him, like Erik had originally thought.

Erik ended the conversation by entering the study to join Reza, sitting in a large chair to begin to teach the boy slight of hand, simple magic tricks even a boy with his limited motor skills could master in hours. At the end of the evening, Nadir nearly had to pry the pair apart.

"Reza it is well past your bedtime, and I am certain Erik is as exhausted as I am after our journey."

"Just ten more minutes, Father, I've almost got it!" Reza whined, attempting to vanish a coin from his hands.

"Your father is right, Reza, it s time for you to go to bed," Erik informed and Reza complied, causing Nadir to frown some; Reza almost never disobeyed his father, but here he was giving Nadir grief but obeying a near stranger? After putting his son to bed, Nadir led Erik back out into the darkness to his quarters. Their trip was quiet, each knowing the strange power the Magician was developing over the boy.

They walked over a small bridge, passing by the young woman with plaited nearly-black hair. The woman diverted her eyes reverently, waiting for the pair to step off the narrow bridge before stepping on to the bridge herself. Erik looked back over his shoulder at the girl, waiting until she was out of earshot before speaking.

"Who is that woman, Daroga?"

"The one we just passed? Shoshana, one of the harem Virgins," he answered simply.

"Strange that you would know the name of a harem virgin," Erik noted with a curious look to Nadir. There were so many women here it was impossible to know all of them by name.

The Daroga sighed some. "She wasn't always a harem girl. She was the Sultana's favorite entertainment, before the cats arrived." Erik raised a brow under the mask, and Nadir reluctantly continued. "The Sultana bores easily. First she had to have Shoshana to dance for her. Then she had to have the cats from Siam. Now, she has to have you."

"Why hasn't the girl returned to her people?"

"… The Sultana bores easily, but once something is hers she can't bear for anyone else to have it. She'd sooner kill the girl before allowing her to return to her home. I'm sorry, Erik, but if I had told you you would not have come-"

Erik merely shrugged. "And your head is worth more than mine. I understand."


	4. Chapter 4

Erik could spend all day just in his room and never be bored. It was the most lavish room he had ever been in, let alone had the privilege to live in. The bed was large with dark wood paneling and sheer curtains for privacy, filled with pillows and silk bedding of the highest quality. The walls and floor were just as exquisite as the rest of the palace, but the room included a large solid wood writing desk, and a divan almost as high quality as the one the Sultana had arranged herself on.

The room came equipped with a large dining table of solid cherry wood, and comfortable chairs to dine in. Of all the beautiful wooden furnishings, the tapestries and the rugs of the room, perhaps what excited Erik the most was the small, cherry wood piano adjacent to the writing desk. It was pressed neatly up the wall, clearly only for ornamentation, but Erik could not help but seat himself at the stool to play. He winced at the poor tuning, opening up the instrument to tweak the strings and sitting again to play.

Eyes closed in musical ecstasy, Erik didn't even hear the girl with the plaited nearly-black hair slip inside and place a basket of fruit and bread on the table in the center of the room, moving to change the sheets. It wasn't until he caught sight of the movement out of the corner of his eye that he stopped playing and turned in his stool. The girl kept her head down, trying to stay as unnoticed and as out of the way as possible, in spite of the gooseflesh the music had given her and all the questions that were racing in her mind.

"What are you doing in here?" Erik commanded in Hebrew, and the girl flinched some.

"I brought you breakfast, and clean sheets," she told him in her native tongue, gesturing to the basket of food on the table as finishing making his bed. "The door was open, I was hoping to be in and out before you noticed…"

"You didn't have to do that; I didn't used the sheets last night. Have you eaten yet today?"

"The Sultana asked me to," she said quietly, which Erik took to mean she had been ordered to. Deftly avoiding his question, she continued "You didn't sleep last night?"

"No, I didn't. The Sultana sent you to spy on me, didn't she?" Erik stood and moved to the basket of food, picking through it for an apple, tossing it to the girl who caught it only to avoid being hit.

She turned the apple uncomfortably in her hands before venturing forwards to return it to the basket. "Yes, Sire. I'm sorry, please forgive me…"

"There's nothing to be forgiven," Erik told her frankly, forcing the fruit into her hands. "Eat, you look hungry and I certainly won't eat everything here. She is a strange woman. What is it she wants to know?"

Shoshana took a large, hungry bite from the apple when she was bidden, chewing it as delicately as she could with a mouth full of food. This image amused Erik greatly. "I'm not certain. My guess would be everything, knowing her."

Erik sat at the table and took a piece of bread, and beckoned for her to do the same. Shoshana obeyed, tearing off a piece of bread after him and sitting as far from the man as possible. "You may tell her whatever you like. I am very good at keeping my secrets, nothing you've seen or heard is anything she can use against me."

The young woman chewed nervously. "Sire… I must warn you, there are no secrets here. No matter how well kept, eventually they will be uncovered," she diverted her eyes, and instantly Erik knew she had heard the rumors that were already circling about him.

"What do you know?" The question was simple, but it made Shoshana's blood freeze in her veins. She took a long moment to choose her words carefully.

"I know that you killed two men yesterday. And that you didn't react to the Sultana's… advancements." She phrased carefully, eyes on the floor. "I must warn you not to ever react to her, Sire," she added. "In the harem they call her the Black Widow. She takes men as lovers and turns them into the Sultan when they cease to please her."

The masked man gave a nod. "Thank you for the warning, but it is unneeded," How like a beaten dog this girl was, Erik noted. Just her choice of words made her flinch as if she might be struck. "As for the men, I was attacked. They were attempting to relieve me of my property, and I defended myself."

"Is it true you're a Thug?" She asked suddenly, raising her eyes to inspect him. "You speak Hebrew like one of the People but you strangled two men with the ease of an assassin…"

Erik took a breath, and it was he who was choosing his words carefully this time. "I do what I have to do to survive. For a time, I traveled with the Thuggee," he did not elaborate, for fear of spreading rumors which might be heard by the wrong ears.

"How did you come to learn Hebrew? You don't look like-"

The masked man cut her off with a genuine laugh. "'I don't look like'?" He held out his arms. "I have no race, my dear. The only bit of my skin you have ever seen is here," he gestured to his chin. "And it is pale even for men of my birthplace. I learned Hebrew living in the Holy Land, albeit briefly, just the same as I learned Farsi, Russian, Mandarin, and more languages I don't care to name."

The woman diverted her eyes, embarrassed by her phrasing. "I apologize Sire, I never meant to offend…"

"I haven't been offended at all," Erik promised, handing her another piece of fruit which she took gratefully. "And even if I had been you have no reason to be so apologetic. The rumor may be that I murdered those men, but I only ever have killed in self defense and I have never… Well. I have only once killed a woman," he remarked with an odd sadness. "Go and answer the Sultana's questions, and be honest. There may be no secrets here, but for now I have nothing to hide."

Shoshana nodded and bowed reverently as she left, tucking the apple in her skirts to save for later. She returned to the harem, and was immediately summoned by the Sultana. Entering the Sultana's chambers, she genuflected reverently, though it nearly physically pained her to bow before anyone but her God, especially as horrible a woman as the Sultana.

"What took you so long, girl?" The sultana barked, and Shoshana flinched. She couldn't lie even if she wanted to, and so she was honest.

"He was playing the piano when I came in, but he finished and we talked for a while…" Shoshana told the sultana everything she had learned, which was very little. The Sultana dismissed her servant, frustrated. Shoshana returned to the harem much to her discontent; she hated the harem more than she had ever hated anything in her life. As strange as the masked man and as dangerous as the rumors made him sound, she found herself unable to wait for the next morning when she would get to spend at least a few minutes in his world rather than this one.

Back in his room, Erik pried up several of the tiles of the stones in the wall with a small knife creating a hole in which to store his valuables. He wasn't worried about anyone stealing his valuables so much as he was concerned with somebody finding what he had stolen. He had known the girl would be completely incapable of lying with any skill at all, and was lucky to distract her from items such as the handful of stolen rubies and the diamond crusted collar on the desk. Next time she came, he would have to be more careful to make sure there really were no obvious secrets that could get back to the Sultana.


	5. Chapter 5

Every day in the early morning, Shoshana would arrive with a basket of breakfast foods and fresh sheets, whether Erik had slept in his bed or not. She never asked what it was he did on nights he didn't sleep, though over time their relationship did become more open with time. Every morning Erik fed her until she thought she would burst, in spite of her insistence that she wasn't hungry. In exchange she started sneaking him more elaborate foods from the kitchens, like imported cheeses and dried meets which he seemed to enjoy.

"You must be European," she remarked with the first genuine smile Erik had seen from the girl when he took piece of cheese with his knife, placing it on top of a slice of bread and finally laying a piece of salted beef on top of that.

"I still hold that I have no race. I've been traveling since I was a boy," he told her, taking a bite out of the bread.

"But you must have been born somewhere. Just because I'm here doesn't make me Persian." The young woman pointed out, and Erik had to nod in agreement.

"No, it doesn't. But just because I was born in France doesn't make me French," he retorted.

Shoshana grinned then. "You're from France! I've always wanted to see France," she confided almost dreamily.

"It isn't much to see," he remarked, clear that that the end of that conversation. "Why did you come to Persia if you're so interested in Europe?"

Suddenly there was a bit of a bitter sneer on Shoshana's soft, normally timid face. "Come here? I didn't come here, Sire, not by any fault of mine. I was brought here to be put on display like some moving statue."

Erik frowned deeply. "You were kidnapped. That is not the story I was told."

"I'm sure it wasn't, Sire. The Sultana thinks that anything she wants is hers to take, in her mind it is not kidnapping to take a sleeping girl from her bed in the night, it is simply claiming what is hers."

"It wasn't the Daroga who took you, was it? The man owes me a great favor, if it was-"

Shoshana shook his head. "No, the Daroga is a very good man. He dislikes the Sultana as much as any of us. Really he's as much a prisoner here as you and I."

Erik growled then. "I am no prisoner here, and you may tell the Sultana that. My French origin though, I would prefer you leave out of the conversation today," he added, and Shoshana nodded. It was nearly impossible for the girl to lie, but leaving out little truths couldn't do any harm. Besides, she liked Erik infinitely more than she liked the Sultana.

"Sire… why do you stay here? How do you stand that horrible, horrible woman?" She ventured, making sure to speak low even though she spoke in her native tongue. The walls here had ears, they said, and while the Sultana did not speak Hebrew Shoshana was always terrified the woman would somehow figure out her immense hatred for the woman who had stolen her from her home.

Erik considered his answer carefully before speaking. "Everything I do is simply the means to an end. I will be here for as long as it is beneficial for me to be here, and then I will move on. I do what I have to in order to survive at the time, and for now that is working here, living comfortably for the first time in years and making a considerable amount of money in the mean time."

"To what end though?" She asked, curiously. "What do you need to save so much money for?"

"Survival," Erik offered simply. "I won't be here forever, and I won't always have a steady income. The more money I make while I can, the less I will struggle later on. Besides, living in a place like this I have to admit, I'm developing expensive tastes," he smiled. "It will be hard to sleep in the dirt after a bed like this one."

Shoshana smiled, and Erik showed her to the door. He could tell she hated leaving, which was strange to observe. Normally people ran from him, but every day she seemed to arrive a little earlier and leave a little later. He knew nothing about her life in the palace, except that something about it fostered an immense dislike for the world outside his room.

The Jewish woman made her way to the Sultana's chambers, kneeling to give her news for the day.

"Really Your Highness, there is nothing new to speak of. Only that he feels he can leave at any time," she remarked, quietly. Her eyes never met the Sultana's, even when the powerful woman stood.

"I get the feeling you are hiding something from me, girl. You expect me to believe that he talks with you every morning, but you never discuss anything but the drapes and the food?" She held out her hand, and one of the eunuchs brought forward a leather whip, frayed and knotted at the ends. Shoshana closed her eyes tight, and steadied her voice as much as she could.

"I swear to you, Your Highness, our talk is mundane…"

"Then perhaps I need to send someone more seductive to convince him to confide in them."

The whip fell on the girl's back with a harsh crack, and try as she might Shoshana couldn't help but yelp. "Who can blame him for keeping his lip buttoned around such an ugly little rat," Another crack, but no yelp this time. Shoshana slipped into prayer, lips rapidly moving as she rocked gently on the floor. With a glare, the Sultana let the whip fly again, and with hardly more than a flinch breaking her prayer Shoshana's lips continued to move.

The Sultana was unable to find anyone in the harem willing to wait on the Magician, not after seeing his magic and watching him strangle with such ease. It was with great reluctance that the woman allowed Shoshana to leave, though she swore every day Shoshana did not come back with new of Erik her lashings would continue.

Shoshana let herself into Erik's quarters quietly today, eyes bloodshot and swollen from lack of sleep and tears. Her dress was far more modest than usual, covering the whole of her torso and back. Her movements were also much more stiff than usual, and Erik noticed her mood did not improve the longer she stayed as it normally did. Something was wrong with the girl, and he was determined to find out what.

When he offered her a seat and she did not lean back in the chair, Erik demanded she stand again.

"Face away from me," he commanded, and numbly the girl obeyed. "Remove your top," Shoshana's breath caught in her throat and she looked back at him, alarmed. Erik gave her a little glare, "I don't care what you've heard about me from those pigeons in the harem, but I am neither a pervert nor a rapist. Remove your top."

The young woman obeyed with considerable hesitation, hands shaking. Pulling her top over her head, she revealed the lashings she had received the previous day, and scars from past lashings. Holding her top to her breasts, she cried silently, embarrassed at her nakedness and her scars. Erik clenched his jaw angrily. "Lay down on the bed. Face down," he added, and the girl obeyed him numbly. She buried her face in a pillow to hide her shame while Erik moved to fill a bowl with hot water. Lifting the marble tile off the floor where his valuables were stored, he withdrew a satchel of dried herbs and salts that were nearly worth their weight in gold. He added them to the nearly boiling hot water, and moved to tear one of the towels in the bathroom into strips.

He seated himself at the edge of the bed, aware of her fear of him. He shouldn't have been surprised; he could be as kind as God to any woman, and they would always react to him with fear. It was something he had always known, but knowledge didn't make it any easier to accept. Without a word, Erik dressed her wounds expertly. Her whole back tensed when the wet strips touched her open wounds.

Only when he was done did he speak. "Your scars won't be hardly noticeable now, so long as you keep the wounds clean," he explained as he placed a handful of coins on the side table for her. "Go to the market when you're feeling more yourself and buy strips of cotton large enough to wrap around your entire torso. This will keep the dust and grit out of the wounds."

Shoshana sat up when Erik left the bedside, covering her breasts still with her shirt. "I… thank you." She felt so foolish… she had been terrified he was going to abuse her in her moment of weakness, and he had only been kind to her. Quickly she turned away from him to pull her top back on, and when she was modest again she stood and moved to him as he washed the bowl clean of herbs and salts.

"Really. Thank you," she raised up on her tip-toes and kissed the cheek of his mask, gently. She didn't notice how tense the man became as she settled back on her souls. "Nobody's been that kind to me here."

Quietly she moved to gather the coins, taking only what she would need for cotton and nothing more. Just as she was about to leave the room, Erik spoke, still washing the bowl in spite of it being clean. "If the Sultana questions you today, tell her I traveled as a freak with the gypsies. Also tell her I wish an audience with her this afternoon, if she has the time. That should satisfy her enough for now," Shoshana nodded silently, and closed the door behind her as she left the room.


	6. Chapter 6

Erik moved into the Sultana's chambers, armed with an immensely powerful demeanor and a sensual air; it was time to fight fire with fire. He knew Shoshana's silence had gotten her beaten, and he was not about to take that guilt upon his shoulders without a fight. The girl had been right about the Sultana; the woman was a monster. The lashings Erik had tended to were not the first; he felt ashamed for not having noticed the scars before. To be fair, he wasn't often looking at her back, but even still… it was a pain he could relate so closely to, and he was not about to let it continue quietly.

Before being addressed, Erik spoke, "Does my work please you, Your Highness?"

The Sultana grinned some, coyly, "I could think of other ways it could please me… but yes."

"Then I would like to request a servant of my own," he proposed boldly.

"Of course. I'll send one of my best girls to attend to you from now on. Do keep in mind, Erik, that a servant is not the same as a concubine… though I can arrange for a concubine as well if you wish. Or another arrangement can be made," she suggested, sauntering up to the masked man and running a finger down his chest with a smirk.

Erik leaned over her, face terribly close to hers. She tilted her face towards him in turn, moving to kiss the masked figure when he spoke. "A servant will be just fine," he said plainly, standing straight and tall once more. "I actually have one in mind. The Jewish girl, Shoshana I believe her name is."

Behind the curtain, Shoshana tensed considerably. Erik was treading on thin ice… if the Sultana agreed Shoshana would be free of her likely for good… but if she disagreed it would be Shoshana who paid for Erik's boldness.

Looking annoyed at being spurned so, the Sultana pressed herself flush against the man, speaking in a hushed purr. "Why choose a virgin when you could have someone so much more adept at pleasing…?"

"As you said, I am looking for a servant, not a concubine." Erik spat this last word as an insult, and the Sultana backed away with a glare.

"You can't have her. It is in appropriate for a virgin to live with a man, even an obvious eunuch such as yourself…" This attempt at an insult was merely met with a chuckle from Erik, causing the Sultana's annoyance to increase.

"Then send someone to check her virginity from time to time, if you're worried I might ruin the girl's worth. As ugly as she is I wouldn't think her purity is worth very much anyway," he remarked, and Shoshana couldn't help but frown at the jab.

The Sultana considered this, "Why her? Why my little dancer, Erik?"

"She already knows some of my habits and preferences. I don't care for people much, the fewer I let into my life the better," he said simply. "If you allow me Shoshana, I will do what you ask of me without question," he added, knowing his common insolence was a source of frustration for the woman.

"You will show me what lies under the mask?" The woman asked, moving back to her divan and sitting up straight.

"I will show you whatever you wish," Erik's voice and posture hinted at more, and the Sultana grinned wickedly.

"Consider it done. Shoshana!" The Sultana clapped twice, and the girl stumbled out from behind the curtains. Erik had not known she was present, and immediately felt a twinge of guilt for calling her ugly. "Meet your new master. You will obey his every wish, and then some. Is that clear?" Shoshana genuflected deeply.

"Yes, Your Highness," she turned and genuflected to Erik as well, with a brief but grateful look. "Sire."

Erik bid the girl to rise. "Go have one of the men bring a cot to the study of my quarters, that will serve as your room," Shoshana bowed her head, and moved off to do as she was bidden with a quiet smile.

As she left the room, that smile was destroyed and her heart sank as she heard the entire room gasp behind her and the shrieks of several of the harem women. What exactly was her new master hiding under the mask? And if it was so horrible… why show anyone? Why put his own ego at risk to satisfy the sick wishes of the Sultana?

Shoshana had a cot set up in the study, as bidden, and was given a key to the rooms. She tidied the room, which was already relatively neat, and put out a complete and utter feast on the dining room table for Erik when he returned… which he didn't. Hour after hour went by, and still there was no Erik. After what she had heard as she left the Sultana's chambers, she began to feel concerned… had the Sultana done something to him? Had he perhaps done something to the Sultana? She waited up for her master, seated in a chair by a window when her eyes finally drooped closed. Erik slipped in completely unheard just before dawn, somewhat startled by the spread on the table and the sleeping girl in the chair.

It took him a long moment to recall that he had taken on a servant, and that he would no longer be living alone. He moved into the dark room without half as much grace as he normally moved, banging his hip into the corner of the dining table as he moved to bed. This jolted Shoshana awake, and she sighed a breath of relief. "Sire! I was beginning to think she'd done something to you… Sire is everything all right?"

"Don't call me that," Erik grumbled, pulling off his coat and unbuttoning his shirt. Normally Shoshana would be driven to advert her eyes, but she moved to him purposefully.

"You're drunk!" She berated, studying the dark recesses of his eyes to look at his pupils, which she could hardly make out in the dark. The strange thing about his eyes was their animal-like reflectiveness in the dark.

"Among other things," he admitted carelessly, and Shoshana frowned deeply. She sat the man in bed as he finished undressing, and quickly brought him water.

"Drink this."

"I didn't mean it you know," he grumbled, ignoring the water she was offering as he laid down.

"Didn't mean what?" She humored, forcing the water into his hand. "Drink. You'll be glad you did tomorrow."

Erik did as he was told, downing the water and handing her back the glass. "When I told that bitch you were ugly. I knew she thinks your race is ugly as a whole, but I don't. You're really quite beautiful you know…" he told her as his eyes closed.

Shoshana shook her head and moved to refill the water, bringing it to him again. "One more glass, there we go," she praised as Erik took the glass and drank.

"I mean it. I don't apologize very often, you had better not take it for granted," he warned her with a mumble. Shoshana couldn't help but chuckle.

"I don't, Sire," she promised, though she knew it was just the ramblings of his intoxicated mind. She was sure everything seemed beautiful intoxicated, or else nobody would ever drink or smoke those horrible drugs.

Satisfied by her answer, Erik closed her eyes and almost immediately fell asleep. Shoshana quietly gathered up the dinner spread she had made, storing everything neatly in her room for the next night. She had been looking forward to surprising Erik with a feast for everything she had done for him, but after worrying about him for so many hours she was simply glad he was back in the palace in one piece, even if he had been in better health.

Closing and locking the door of the study behind her, she climbed into bed to sleep, reveling in her relative freedom.


	7. Chapter 7

Erik was up well before his servant the next morning, much to her surprise. She had slept in far later than she indented, but considering how intoxicated Erik had been the night before she had expected him to sleep in until noon. When she slipped out of study and spotted Erik up and working studiously over stacks of parchment on the table, she panicked some. Her first full day working for a man who had been so kind to her, and she had overslept!

"Sire, I'm so sorry. I'll wash and have breakfast ready right away-" She stammered, but Erik held up a hand to quiet her without looking from his sketches.

"There's no need, I've already eaten. And I thought I told you not to call me that?" He angled the piece of charcoal a different way to create a finer line.

Shoshana gaped some. "I can't believe you remember what happened at all. You were speaking nonsense until you fell asleep."

"I have the curious inability to forget anything, no matter what I smoke or how much I drink. And every word I spoke last night was true. Moderately embarrassing, but true," he told her plainly as he sketched.

Not sure what to say, Shoshana moved past him to the bathroom to bathe quickly, braiding her hair and slipping out of the apartment to gather new sheets. It wasn't until she was nearly done replacing the sheets that she found words to say to him.

"Why did you do that?" She asked him, quietly.

"You'll have to be more specific. I did a lot of things last night," Erik remarked, crumpling up his latest sketch and starting fresh.

"You showed her your face so she would let me serve you… why?"

"It was what she was looking for from you, ultimately. I knew if I gave her what she wanted she wouldn't have any more use for keeping you under her control."

Shoshana leaned against the bed when she was done folding, "But why would it matter to you if I stayed under her control?"

"I have no trouble sending you back to her, if you don't want to be here…"

"No! No that's not what I mean at all!" Shoshana said quickly, though Erik knew it wasn't. "I just mean… thank you. You've been so nice to me, I'm just not used to that here," she didn't add that she certainly hadn't expected such kindness from someone with so many rumors circulating about him.

"You were kind to me, I showed you kindness in return," he told her quietly. "I know it's rare these days."

Shoshana nodded her agreement, "Too rare. But when was I kind to you?"

"You've shown me more civility than nearly anybody," he admitted quietly. "In my world, that counts as kindness."

The young woman frowned deeply at that, unsure of what to say. Fortunately she was spared from having to find words when Erik spoke again, "I've been asked to perform for a party celebrating the Sultan's return. I have an idea in mind, but I will need an assistant. Are you interested?"

Shoshana's eyes widened considerably. "Assist you? With your magic? Sire, that's against my religion…"

Erik chuckled. "This particular magic is only an illusion. And stop calling me that, if we're going to be living together Erik is fine," Shoshana still looked nervous, and Erik beckoned her over to show her a sketch.

"This isn't the final design, but the basic idea is there," he explained, talking out her involvement in the illusion and gesturing to the rough sketch on the page. Shoshana couldn't help but grin.

"Sire- Erik, this is really clever. Is all of your magic like this?"

"No. Most of it has an element of magic to it," he stated, amused when her eyes widened. "Will you help me?"

"Of course I will! It looks like fun," she smiled broadly, and that day they began to practice for their act.

A week later, the courtyard of the Palace was full of partygoers of every shape and size, drinking and making merry in spite of their religious doctrine against liquor. After an hour of simple tricks and fireworks displays, Erik was the vision of calm behind the large black curtain and much to his surprise Shoshana wasn't showing the slightest bit of nerves herself. With her eyes lined with thick with kohl and her hair down in thick waves, she looked like an image straight out of the Kama Sutra of India.

The music began, rhythmic and pulsating. Erik stepped from behind the curtains with Shoshana's hand resting gently over his. All eyes were focused on her raw, sexual beauty, just as Erik had planned. Shoshana spun and writhed around her master, hips gyrating hypnotically as if by Erik's bidding. By all appearances, Shoshana was merely Erik's puppet on a string. Erik never once touched the girl, though she moved with his hands wherever they went.

Gently Erik guided the girl up onto a rope hardly more than half an inch wide. Expertly Shoshana balanced, walking the rope with impeccable grace on the very points of her toes. Erik pulled his hands away from her entirely, though gestured for her next movements. On the very tips of her toes, she lifted one leg perfectly straight behind her tilting her whole body forward so that her lets were perfectly perpendicular to the rope. If she was struggling to balance at all she certainly didn't show it.

Erik gestured to her, and the partygoers applauded. With another simple motion, he silenced the crowd while Shoshana righted herself and continued to walk along the rope with a slow, rhythmic grace. "Beauty such as this is not of earthly origins, would you agree?" he demanded of his audience in Farsi.

Waving with a flourish, a plume of smoke rose into the air from directly below Shoshana, covering her entirely. When the smoke dissipated, the beautiful woman was gone. In her place was a lithe brown cat, with points on her face and paws nearly pitch black. The cat strode languidly along the rope with as much grace as Shoshana had shown, before leaping up and weaving her way around Erik's shoulders. There was absolutely no place for the woman to be hiding; by all appearances the woman actually had transformed into the feline now seated affectionately on Erik's shoulder.

The audience was delighted by the trick, especially the Sultan. The elaborately dressed man grinned and laughed heartily at the display, approaching the masked magician and his cat without the slightest hint of fear. "That was wonderful! Absolutely stunning. But as lovely as the cat is, I think all of us myself included would be a lot more appreciative if you would turn her back into the even lovelier young woman?"

"That is a tall order, Your Grace," Erik told the man, loud enough for the audience to hear. "Creatures tend to stay in the form they are most comfortable in. As much as she has been tormented in her previous form I think she may prefer to stay this way," this last remark was not without a bit of a glare to the Sultana.

"Surely with all your powers you could find some way? I do actually have a bit of a surprise in order for you, if you can manage," Erik raised a brow under the mask, and whispered some to the cat in Hebrew. "She says for such a kind and benevolent man as yourself, she will agree to return to her former self. If you would please stand back, Your Grace?" Erik gestured for the man to move back and the Sultan obeyed readily.

Erik placed the cat back on the rope, where she began to walk along gracefully. With a few words in mystic-sounding Hindi and a grand gesture, the smoke cloud appeared in a different place this time, and suddenly Shoshana unfurled from a crouched position upon the rope, still balanced perfectly upon the points of her toes.

The audience erupted in delighted applause. Gracefully, Shoshana stepped down from the rope on Erik's command, placing her hand delicately over her masters and moving to his side to face the audience with a deep, modest bow. While her face was calm her eyes were grinning.

Again the Sultan approached Erik, this time shaking his hand heartily. It was a gesture Erik was not entirely comfortable with, being as naturally wary of people as a wild animal might be. "Well done, Sir, very well done!" Erik bowed modestly, diverting the attention to Shoshana.

"I only manipulate the forces of nature, Your Grace," Erik promised, and the Sultan turned to face his people.

"I have heard wonderful things about this man from my wife, and already rumors of his powers have reached my ears from the rest of the court. You may or may not have been told, Erik, that I reward people who please me very highly, especially people with such unique gifts as yours. My wife tells me your gifts are deserving of greatest gift I can reward you, and on her advice it is yours. Magician, take a look to your right at your new bride."

Erik's heart immediately dropped in his chest, and he heard Shoshana make a sound of anguished surprise to his right before her hand could cover her mouth. Without a word she moved back behind the curtain, shaking heavily. Silently Erik moved after her, not waiting to be dismissed by the Sultan as the party restarted and the wine began to flow.

"Shoshana! Shoshana stop," he commanded so firmly, the girl had no choice but to obey. "I didn't ask for this."

Shoshana shook her head fiercely. "No. I know you didn't Erik… this is another one of her games. That horrible, horrible woman! She knows I can't… I can't…"

Erik glared at her some. "You can't marry somebody like me, is that it?" He demanded harshly, and she looked away. "This isn't even about your religious views, is it? It's not that I'm not Jewish, oh no. In spite of how kind I've been to you, you're still afraid of me. The rumors you refuse to tell me you've heard trump what you've seen from me in the weeks you've known me. You know I've been killing men for the Sultana's amusement, don't you? Don't you?" Erik accused so harshly Shoshana couldn't do any more than sob and nod.

"I do what I have to survive in this world, Shoshana. If the Sultana orders me to fight and strangle criminals, I will fight and strangle criminals. What I do in her sick and twisted world still has influence over your view of me! I am little different than you. You asked why I helped you, why I was so kind? I have been where you are, Shoshana. I have been a freak, I have been taken from my home, whipped, and displayed like an animal. The difference between you and I is I did not make that the end of my life. I did not become a whipped dog," he spat and Shoshana cringed. "I didn't sit around and wallow in self pity, I got out. But in spite of our immense similarities and our pathetic differences, in spite of how I have been more than kind to you since the day you began _spying_ on me, I disgust you too much to marry, even to save your life. You do realize she will kill you, don't you?"

Shoshana nodded silently. "And still you run at the thought of marrying me. I have treated you like a human being and you have treated me like a spider on the wall! I am too ugly, too deadly to befriend in spite of all the good I've done for you," Erik spit at her feet, disgusted, and turned on a heel, stalking off into the darkness.

When finally he returned to his quarters, Shoshana's bed was removed from the study. A note was left by the Daroga, stating the girl was being moved back to the harem until the wedding in one week's time. Erik crumpled the note, and moved to pound at the keys of the piano, the melody a reflection of his immense intoxication and bitterness


	8. Chapter 8

Erik didn't see Shoshana again until the day of the wedding. The ceremony was to be large, with most of the court in attendance. Erik drank heavily as he allowed a man to tailor his robes. Nadir was standing with a pair of soldiers by the door, keeping watch. "Why is she doing this, Daroga?" Erik commanded. "If my work really pleases her why can't I request to not take a bride?"

"It would be an insult, and both you and the girl would be killed. I beg you to put your ego aside and go through with this, Erik. It's simply one of her games. Everything in this court is done to amuse her, from your tricks, to strangling criminals, to caustic marriages," the darker man sighed, and dismissed the soldiers and the tailor to speak with Erik alone. "There will be men in the room, making sure the marriage is consummated Erik. There is no avoiding this."

"Then the Sultana has sentenced her to death," said Erik plainly. Her lack of objection had told Erik every word of what he had spoken had been true. She might appreciate him more as a master than she did the Sultana, but she could not such a monster as her husband. And once she saw his face… Well, even if her survival instincts allowed her to go through with the marriage she certainly wouldn't consummate it.

"Where have you been going all these nights? Reza has been asking about you. He had been hoping to hear about the marriage from you," Nadir ventured, eyes on the now empty bottle of spiced wine on Erik's table.

"Where I go is no place for a young boy, especially one as ill as Reza. As for the marriage, it will be short lived and certainly nothing to rejoice," Erik said, knowing by morning her would be a widower.

Nadir held up his hands defensively, but ventured one more question. "Erik, I have to ask… are you responsible for the murders in the village? I know the Sultana has you executing criminals, but drug sellers and women of ill repute have been turning up murdered in the most horrendous ways-"

"Have they been strangled?" Asked Erik, as if he already knew the answer.

"Well, no…"

"Then it wasn't me, now was it?" The curtness of Erik's tone told Nadir there was not much truth to the statement, which caused him to frown deeply but he did not press the subject. It was his duty as Daroga to protect the people of Mazenderan… but Erik was killing convicted criminals, prostitutes, and drug dealers. It wouldn't hurt to let him go with a warning, on some less stressful day.

With a glance out the window, Nadir took a breath, nervous for his friend. "It's nearly sundown. We should be going."

Shoshana knew Erik was right, which only made her feel worse about the choice she was being faced with. She had been keeping what she knew about Erik from him… he was so good to her, so kind she simply couldn't picture him as a murderer. She would rather imagine that he was a different man outside the walls of his elegant apartment. It was so easy to imagine that when she was only a servant; now faced with the prospect of being his bride, the thought made her nearly sick to her stomach. Erik had been nothing but good to her, he had saved her from the Sultana, he had sacrificed his own privacy, something Shoshana knew he valued more dearly than anything, just to keep her from the Sultana. Why then did the idea of being his bride make her shake?

She was a horrible excuse for a human being, and she knew it. Everything Erik had said about her had been correct; she was a coward, a beaten dog. The only strength in her body was the strength of her convictions, that her God was mighty and that she was one of His chosen people. Perhaps this was a test of her convictions, she thought as the harem girls bound her hair with jewels, threaded her eyebrows and painted her body elaborately with henna. When the henna dried and flaked off, she was finally allowed to see herself in a mirror; she felt more beautiful, but more foreign than she ever had in her life. The girl in front of her was not a modest Jewish dancer. Oh no, the girl in the mirror was nothing short of a Persian bride.

If this was a test, why then was she so terrified? She had always told herself she didn't fear death… but that simply wasn't true. She was young, and healthy of body if not always of mind these days. Was it really her time for martyrdom? Was she really ready to die for her beliefs that she should not marry a man who did not take her God, that she should not marry a man who killed without remorse?

The answer was very simply no. She was not ready to die, not so young. In spite of how terrified she was of marrying Erik, for so many reasons, there was the drive to live in her yet. In her heart she felt there was something in her life worth living for, worth breaking an age-old tradition and worth swallowing her fear of the unknown for. Perhaps it was her eventual freedom, perhaps it was love, perhaps it was something more holy that pulled her towards life… but pull it did, whatever it may be. She would live. No matter what it took, what sacrifices she had to make, she would live.

With more courage than she had felt since arriving in Persia so long ago, Shoshana approached her future husband, who hardly looked at her. It was her wedding day, but she could never remember feeling more scorned or ugly in her life. She didn't know it was taking everything in Erik's power not to stare at her as she approached him, so beautiful she appeared.

The ceremony was torturously long and public, drawing far more attention than made Erik comfortable. He hated people with an immense passion, and he hated even more when such a distasteful event was such a public spectacle. After the ceremony, Erik was escorted back to his room, where he sat in a large chair by the window to take in the breeze while he waited for his bride. Taking a large drink from his third bottle of spiced wine evening, he was just beginning to think his bride had lost her nerve when there was a soft knock at the door. Erik waved for the soldiers at the door to open it.

Shoshana slipped inside the room, dressed in a sheer robe and little else. The contrast of the henna against her olive skin showed just barely under the robe, and where Erik had to fight not to admire her beauty when she approached him during the ceremony, no amount of effort could keep him from watching her now as she moved into the room. She looked around at the men in the room nervously.

"…Do they have to be here?" She pulled the robe a little tighter around herself self consciously. She had taken days to work up the courage to come here to be with Erik, but she had not anticipated strange men being here when she arrived.

Nadir was among them and nodded professionally. "I'm afraid –"

"Daroga, perhaps another, less archaic arrangement could be made. She's a virgin, there will be clear signs the marriage was consummated," Nadir frowned some at the suggestion, but after some consideration ordered his men out and followed suit reluctantly. He was taking a serious risk by doing this, but he owed Erik many favors after the man had saved his life; what harm was it to allow the man to have a little privacy on his wedding night?

Shoshana locked the door behind the men, and when she turned back to Erik the robe was hanging low on her shoulders, just barely supported by her breasts. "Well… What do you think?" She asked, turning some for her husband to inspect her. "I actually rather like the henna. It's strange, but lovely…"

Erik took a long drink of his wine as he inspected her. "It is. So are you, Shoshana."

She flushed some. "Thank you. After the ceremony I wasn't sure…" she trailed off uneasily.

"At the ceremony, it took every ounce of effort not to stare at you like a hungry dog," he admitted, taking another long drink.

Shoshana approached him, carefully. "I thought a lot about what you said, Erik. And you were right about me. I'm… pathetic. A coward. I didn't use to be like this, you know… and I don't want to be like this anymore. I'm tired of being afraid all the time."

With a single motion, the robe dropped into a pile at Shoshana's feet and she stood before her husband naked but for the red-brown henna stains lacing their way across her body. Erik nearly dropped he glass at the sight of her; he had never seen a naked woman before, and had never in his wildest dreams imagined them to be so beautiful. Her legs were long and lean meeting with her hips before curving so softly into the small of her waist. Her breasts were small, but firm and flawlessly shaped. This… this was not a body, it was a work of art.

Finally Erik found words. "How old are you, Shoshana?"

She was a little taken aback by the question. "Eighteen. Why? How old are you?"

She seemed so much older, so much more mature to Erik than she had in the past. He wasn't sure why he was surprised she was eighteen, or whether he thought this seemed older or younger than he imagined. "Not much older. Nineteen, twenty maybe by now."

"You don't know how old you are?" She asked with a twinge of sadness in her voice. She was surprised by his youth; he carried himself like he had so many years of life under his belt, like he was so powerful, but really he was still so young.

Erik left her question unanswered, taking another drink of wine. Slowly, Shoshana moved towards him. She straddled him as she had been taught in the harem, and deliberately removed the glass of wine from his hands and placed it on the floor. Erik was stunned by the boldness of the gesture, allowing her to remove the glass and to stay so close.

In another deliberate movement, Shoshana wrapped her arms around her husband's neck and kissed him. She was inexperienced with kissing, but had been taught what to do by the harem. She knew how to move her mouth, where and how to move her tongue. Erik's hands gripped the arms of the chair firmly and his whole body tensed beneath her. She frowned, somewhat self consciously.

"Am I doing something wrong? I've never-"

"Take off the mask," he commanded.

Shoshana sat back and studied him. "Are you sure..?"

"If this is going to happen, I want it to happen the right way. I don't expect you to love me… but I won't be feared. Not by my bride, not on our wedding night," Erik stroked her cheek with more tenderness than Shoshana had ever seen him display. She covered her husband's hand with her own, leaning into his gentle touch.

With the utmost care, the young woman reached for the mask. Stroking his leather cheek, she trailed her fingers along to the edge of the mask near his hairline. Gently she pulled off the mark, peeling it away from his face carefully. Her breath caught involuntarily in her throat at the sight of the gruesome face which lay beneath, and in an instant Erik stood. The movement put Shoshana on the floor, wide eyed and unable to react as Erik stormed into the bathroom, locking himself in. The movement was quickly followed by the sound of shattered glass and a cry of anguish. The olive-skinned girl sobbed some, and crawled onto the large bed. Holding her knees to herself, afraid for her future and for her husband, she stared at the bathroom door listening to the storm that raged within.


	9. Chapter 9

It was nearly dawn when Erik finally unlocked the bathroom door and let himself out, fully masked though for the first time since Shoshana had met him actually looking his age. Shoshanna was sitting in his bed – their bed, naked with her knees pulled to her chest to protect her modesty. She was still awake, much to his surprise and mild embarrassment. For once, Shoshana was the one to find her voice first. "What are you going to do now?" Her voice was quiet, but calm.

"It is not your fault you are horrified by my face. It was foolish of me to think it might be any different. I have no interest in lying with a woman who isn't willing, no matter how beautiful she may be," he said in a voice that was just as low, tinged with sadness. "But there is still the matter of your virginity to attend to. The Sultana will be expecting evidence, and there simply is no way to fake a loss of virginity."

"But you said-"

"I said I will not lie with a woman who is unwilling, but there are other ways for you to lose virginity," Moving to the writing desk, Erik found a quill with a dull nib. "It isn't pretty, but a good jab with this will do the trick. Wipe yourself with a sheet when it's through, it will be evidence enough."

Shoshana simply looked at her husband, mortified. "Erik… Erik I would rather lie with you than sodomize myself, and that is the God's honest truth."

"I don't know whether I should be flattered," he told her sarcastically, eliciting a frown.

"I didn't mean it like that, Erik. You are my husband, it is my duty as your wife-"

"Do I seem like the sort of man who is bothered by duty, Shoshana?" He snapped sharply. "I've told you quite plainly, I may be as naïve when it comes to sex as you are, but I am not yet desperate enough to lie with someone who is unwilling and even afraid of me. I won't do it, do you understand?" His voice shook a bit as he shouted these last words, not expecting an answer.

Pride was a very important thing in Erik's world. The only thing that separated him from an animal was his pride, he felt. He refused to abuse his own ego by getting attached to anything, anyone that he could not have. Sex in his mind was the ultimate form of attachment, even if it was viewed so loosely in this world. If Shoshana would never, or could never want him… he couldn't allow himself to want her either.

Quietly, Shoshana unfurled herself from the bed and moved to him. "Erik… if I can't prove the marriage is valid by the time the Daroga returns, I will be killed. To be entirely honest… I married you because I am not ready to die, not out of love. When I made that decision to be your wife, I also made the decision that you will be the first and last man I go to bed with for as long as I live. You terrify me, Erik, but not because of your face. I worry about what you are capable of and the path you are headed down, but I worry both for my sake and for yours. You have always been so kind to me, and I have immense respect for you for that. My respect for you hasn't changed after seeing your face," she touched his leather clad cheek gently, and he winced some and batted her hand away.

"…I can't help you if you don't want to be helped, Erik. If you would have me killed and die alone, so be it. I chose to waive my morals and marry a man who is not a Jew with questionable morals at best, but I refuse to be a sodomite," she told him firmly. "I made a conscious choice to be a part of your life for better or worse, and I intend to follow my decision through as long as you will let me."

This was perhaps the first time Erik had seen Shoshana stand up to anyone. He was incredibly surprised by her brazenness. He hung his head some, stressed, and was surprised when he felt her lips against his for the second time that night.

"I won't touch the mask," she promised quietly. "Erik... I know you have no reason to believe me. But if you let me in I'm not going to hurt you. It won't be a fairytale marriage… but it's better than dying alone," Erik knew she spoke for both of them then, though her death would be the more immediate of the two. She was clearly arguing with him the same way she had argued with herself when deciding whether or not to marry him… and while every bone in Erik's body urged him away, to run and close himself off from the world while he still had a chance, a part of him truly did still fear dying alone.

She may never love him, but she would be there. After a long while Erik nodded, and suddenly he was flooded with nerves. In front of him was this stunning woman, a true work of art, ready if not entirely willing to lie with him. It felt wrong to mar such a beauty, to taint her with his ugliness… a girl like this should be wedding a prince, not a monster. Sensing his hesitation, Shoshana kissed him again and drew his attention back to her and the moment. She let her lips linger this time, breathing him in.

While she hadn't exactly chosen to marry Erik, there was something secretly thrilling about being married. It was a fate she had ceased imagining for herself when she was kidnapped all that time ago. The lips she kissed now would be the same ones she kissed well into her old age. She studied the feel of them, learning their eccentricities, things about them that would become second nature with time. His smell was intoxicating, a bizarre but wonderful mixture of opium, wood, and wine that was quite similar to the taste of his tongue she noticed as their kisses deepened. Drinking and smoking were vices she loathed, but somehow associating them with her husband made the smells not only bearable but friendly and inviting.

It wasn't long at all before Erik would be entirely unable to stop even if he still had doubts about his bride. She was stunning, exotic and enticing in a way that thrilled every one of his senses. Knowing there was a hundred other men in the court alone who would kill to be him in this moment added to the thrill of exploring her nakedness with his hands. She responded by erupting into gooseflesh, excited by his touch in a way neither of them had expected. The sheer foreignness of his touch had been so unexpected her whole body came to life just at the feel of his hands.

Slowly he backed his wife to their bed, shedding his clothes as they moved suddenly finding them too hot to bear. Strange how he could stand them in the desert sun but not when enticed by such a stunning woman. Shoshana blushed at the sight of her husband's nakedness, but a firm, deep kiss quickly made her forget her shame.

They moved under the sheets, and nearly as soon as he had found his way into her she winced, hardly noticeably but enough to make Erik freeze in concern. As aroused as he was there was simply no way he would continue if it meant she would be in pain. Shoshana hushed him, cupping his face and kissing him deeply. "The girls warned me it might hurt for a moment. It was hardly anything, the pain's already gone…" she promised him, running a leg up his. He kissed her soundly and at her insistence continued. The act didn't last long, but it was long enough to send waves of intense pleasure over both of them as they reached their peaks with uncontrollable sighs of pleasure. They were hardly finished, Erik kissing his new bride's long and graceful neck when there was a sharp knock at the door.

"Erik, are you decent? The Sultana is already asking for news…" It was the voice of the Daroga, sounding nervous. "I heard there was the sound of glass breaking last night, is everything all right?"

Reluctantly Erik moved away from his new bride and the delights her body offered. He didn't notice her admiring him from behind as he pulled on his robe, rather shamelessly eying his thin but powerful frame. For the first time she noticed the scars of lash marks on his back. Erik answered the door, and the Daroga heaved a visible sigh of relief when he stepped inside and spotted Shoshana covering herself with the sheets to protect her modesty.

"Shoshana, one of the nurses will examine you immediately. I'll be taking the sheets for evidence, so if you wouldn't mind bringing back a fresh set on your way back?" Shoshanna nodded agreeably, still rosy-cheeked from exertion Erik noticed with some pride as Nadir dismissed himself to let the girl dress. When she left the room clad in one of Erik's robes, the Daroga raised a brow and slipped back inside to find Erik stripping the bed of its sheets and folding them.

"Why was she wearing your robe? Did no one bring by her belongings last night?"

"No. I assumed they didn't wish to disturb us on our wedding night," Erik explained, handing the man the stack of neatly folded sheets.

"They were ordered to bring them in by sun up so Shoshana could be decent for her appointment with the nurse. She only brought that useless one last night, though I must admit she was radiant in it."

"The Sultana didn't expect her to survive the night," said Erik in cold realization. How would the woman react when she realized her little game had not worked out as she planned?


	10. Chapter 10

When Shoshana returned nearly an hour and a half later, Erik had laid out a spread of nearly every breakfast food imaginable, and she smiled some. In spite of her small smile Erik could tell something was on her mind. "Sit, have something to eat. You should sleep too, I doubt if you did last night."

"You didn't have to do this. I was going to change and get a basket…" She told him quietly, placing new sheets on the bed to make it after breakfast. She was still dressed in his robe, reluctant to change it was so comfortable, and it covered so much more than most of her outfits did.

"Here in the East women may be expected to wait on their husbands for the duration of the marriage, but at least for a while after the wedding women are spoiled rotten by their husbands in the West," he explained. "Go on, eat. There will be time for work and chores later," he promised her, waiting for her to sit and take food before he ventured to ask his next question. "How was your appointment with the nurse? It seemed to run a little long."

"Violating. And it didn't end with the nurse; I had to see the Sultana. She wanted to inspect me herself," his bride remarked coldly. "I'm remarkably glad I chose to be with you, though. I'm such an awful liar she surely would have tripped me up with all her questions."

"I should hope you're also glad to have been with me for the same reasons I am glad you were with me," he remarked coyly, and Shoshana smiled privately as her face flushed. "What all did she ask?"

Shoshana took a bite of an apple, as if speaking with her mouth preoccupied would make the topic any less embarrassing. "She wanted a full narration. So I was honest with her. I told her about your face, and how you locked yourself away, and she seemed pleased. Then I told her about when you came out; I left out conspiring to sodomize myself, I'd prefer to think that thought never crossed anybody's mind. I mentioned how you needed a little convincing, but once you weren't convinced I was just trying to save my own hide and run off how remarkable it was," swallowing her bite, she continued. "That was when she really started prying. That woman has a truly foul mind, did you know that?"

"I did, actually. What was it she pried about?" He asked, truly curious. It seemed to him there wasn't much more to it than what Shoshana must have already told her.

"…The size of your manhood, for one," she told him, olive skin flushed dark red. "Whether or not you were as sexually competent as you seemed. How long you lasted. Things of that nature."

Erik very nearly laughed. "And what did you tell her?"

She flushed even darker then, something Erik didn't think was possible. "The truth. That you were larger than the girls in the harem told me you would be and it made me nervous at first, and that while I didn't have as much experience in these matters as Her Highness, I hadn't been paying particular attention to how long it lasted and that I was thoroughly satisfied."

The masked man did laugh then, and kissed his bride on the cheek. "I am remarkably proud of you, Shoshana. I really must apologize for the harshness of my words before the wedding, clearly I was wrong about you. It takes a lot of nerve to not only go through with a wedding and all its accoutrements, but to make such a jab at the Sultana? You, my darling bride, are a lioness."

The young woman shook her head, though her glow now was one of pride at his praise. "No, you were right about me then. I'm simply… changing, is all. I'm done just surviving; I want to actually live now. Does that make any sense? I decided to marry you a few days ago, but it was just before the ceremony last night that I realized why I was actually going to go through with it. When I looked in the mirror I didn't see a little harem girl with no future, I saw a bride."

"It makes perfect sense. I made that realization in Italy, some years back. It's a difficult but glorious realization, isn't it?" He smiled, standing to put the sheets on the bed.

"'Some years back'? How long have you been traveling?" She asked curiously. He had said he was only nineteen, twenty at the oldest.

"Ten or eleven years I think, give or take a few. I left home quiet young."

"When were you in Italy?" She pressed, suddenly realizing how tragically little she knew about her husband's past.

"Those dates are even less precise, I'm afraid. I think I was around fifteen when I left, but that's a very rough guess."

"What did you do there?"

The question was as innocent as the last, but for some reason it elicited a more delayed response from the man making the bed. "I was the apprentice to a stonemason. I helped build a few homes for wealthy Italians."

Shoshana smiled encouragingly. "I'll bet they were beautiful. Papa went to the Vatican once, he said Italy must have been the most beautiful country in the world."

"It is certainly one of my favorite," Erik smiled back, to her over his shoulder, though she thought she could see a hint of sadness on his mouth.

"Why didn't you stay, then?" She asked innocently, and Erik debated for a long moment whether to answer or to change the subject.

"I killed a young girl there. My Master's daughter. It was an accident, but I knew I could never face him… so I left."

Shoshana frowned deeply. "She's the one girl you've killed? You mentioned when you mended my back-"

"Yes, she's the one." Erik interrupted before she could finish, eager for the subject to be finished. "Finish eating and change, there's something I want to show you, and someone you should meet."

Curious but taking the hint, Shoshana finished her food and moved into the study to change. Erik had brought a trunk of her things from the harem himself, since it seemed no one else was going to. Married now, she dressed as modestly as possible and made a mental note to go shopping for proper attire. From now on her bare belly should be seen by only her husband.

Erik kissed his wife when she emerged from the study, a gesture she returned happily. Why she had been so nervous about marrying Erik she simply couldn't recall; so far, albeit less than a day into their marriage, he was wonderful. He guided her down a hall before coming to a stop in front of a long, thin table with a vase pressed against the wall. Several torches flanked either end of the table up on the wall, unlit in the daylight. "Stand back, just watch." He told her, and she obediently moved back against the far wall to observe.

In a barely noticeable gesture, Erik reached up and touched one of the torches, and suddenly he was gone. Shoshana's breath caught audibly in her throat at the sight. "Erik..? Erik please tell me this is a trick and not one of your magicks…"

In another blink of an eye, Erik was back, smiling broadly. "It's only an illusion, I swear to you. Almost identical to the one you helped me with, actually. Do you remember that little trap door you fell through, the one that rotated? Well this is exactly the same, except that you have to pull a lever to get the door to rotate since it's here in the wall. Whoever built this was truly a genius, it's very nearly silent and extraordinarily quick," he spoke with immense admiration in his voice, though she could tell his mind was already racing around the mechanics of it for possible ways to improve it even more.

"Come here, take my hand," Erik offered his hand to her, and Shoshana ventured forward to take it.

"It's just like the trick with the doors?" She asked nervously, and Erik nodded.

"Exactly like it, but through a wall instead of through the floor. Watch," Erik touched the torch, and in a blink of an eye the hallways was gone and they were standing in pitch darkness. Shoshana moved to hold Erik's arm, alarmed by how sudden the darkness had set in. He hushed her gently, and suddenly there was light in the passageway. Erik held a torch above them, revealing a row of torches along the wall as far as could be seen.

"These passages all lead outside of the palace walls. In case something happens I wanted to make sure you knew they were here."

"Why would something happen?" She looked up at him curiously.

"The Sultan requested an audience with me today. The Daroga thinks it's about some of the political upset in the court. It could get me involved in some… unsavory business," he told her, blowing out the torch and moving them back into the main hallway of the palace in another blink of an eye.

"How many passages like that are there?"

"I'm not sure yet. Six that I know of, but there are probably more. This is the closest one to our rooms. I'll show you the others if I think there's need for them," he promised, and she nodded.

Hand in hand they walked through the palace for twenty minutes, crossing through the courtyard clear to the other end of the massive complex. Every minute that passed Shoshana grew more curious about where they could possibly be going. This was the more elaborate end of the palace, where the Sultan housed people on his political staff and important guests….

Erik stopped them in front of a large set of double doors and knocked firmly. Within moment the Daroga opened the door to them with a smile. "I wish you had told me you were bringing your wife, I would have brought in food…"

"We've already eaten," Erik promised, clasping the man's hand cordially. Shoshana bowed deeply, though Nadir bid her to rise.

"There's no need for that here. You are the wife of my friend, that makes you as welcome in my household as he is," Nadir smiled warmly.

Suddenly a young boy entered the room, looking weak and pale but with great joy in his face. "Erik? Is that you?"

Erik smiled and moved to the boy, who only recognized his form when he was near. The boy's vision was failing him now, as quickly as the rest of his facilities. The tall Magician crouched to be level with the boy and opened his arms to embrace him like a brother. "How have you been, Reza? I'm sorry I haven't been by, things have been very busy."

"It's okay, Father told me you were busy. He says you got married!"

"Just last night, actually," Erik smiled to the boy. "She's here with me, if you'd like to meet her?" he beckoned Shoshana forward, and picked the featherweight boy up so she wouldn't have to crouch.

Shoshana bowed politely with a smile. "It's an honor to meet you. My name is Shoshana." It was hard to keep a smile on her face when the boy was so clearly ill, but it smiled back which lightened her heart some and when he spoke it was in the tone of a perfect gentleman.

"The honor is mine, Shoshana. I'm Reza."


	11. Chapter 11

Erik and his bride spent most of the day with Reza and the Daroga, Erik teaching the boy tricks while the boy parroted them to Shoshana and to his father. Shoshana couldn't help but smile watching them interact. Erik was more patient with the boy than she had ever seen, and the boy seemed to delight in being treated like an equal rather than a child. This couldn't possibly be the same man who was responsible for executing criminals for the Sultana, the same man who had spat and snarled at her at the Sultan's party.

As the afternoon drew out, Erik and Reza finally parted ways. He left the boy with tricks to practice to improve his dexterity and abilities of sleight of hand. With his wife on his arm, he began the long walk back to their apartment. Shoshana was quiet for some time before speaking. "What's wrong with him?" She asked quietly as they walked.

"If it has a name, I don't know it," he admitted.

"But you've seen it before?" This question was met with a nod from the masked man. "…What will happen to him?"

Erik took a breath, "He will lose the ability to walk about the same time he completely loses his vision. His motor control will continue to decline until he can't speak or keep food in his mouth. Eventually he will lose the ability to breathe, if he doesn't starve first."

Shoshana frowned deeply. "There's nothing that can be done?"

"Nothing that will cure him, no. He can only be made comfortable," Shoshana wiped at her eye and nodded sadly.

Erik let her inside their apartments, but didn't follow. "Aren't you coming in? I was going to make dinner."

"In a while. I have a meeting with the Sultan which probably started a few minutes ago. Eat though if you're hungry, I'll fend for myself when the meeting is through," Shoshana promised she would, and Erik closed the door behind him to meet with the Sultan.

The tall, fit man was speaking in whispers with a group of men when Erik was shown in. Spotting Erik, he dismissed the men and greeted the Magician with what Erik knew was a false smile. "Ah, Erik. I've heard a lot about you, it's good to finally meet you like this. How are you enjoying your gift?"

"She is a wonderful bride, Your Grace. Everything a man could want."

A more genuine smile from the Sultan this time, "Good, good. My wife thought you might enjoy a bride of your own, she's rarely wrong about such things. Speaking of my wife, she is immensely pleased with your work you know. I have never heard her rave so much," praised the Sultan, to which Erik bowed.

"I work hard to perfect my art, Your Grace."

"…That isn't exactly the work I was talking about, though she does enjoy your magic considerably. I was speaking of your..." The man waved in the air, searching for the right word.

"Other art," offered Erik, and the Sultan nodded.

"Yes, your other art. Have a seat, would you?" The man offered, and Erik obeyed. The Sultan followed suit, folding his arms on top of the table. "I know you are knew here, and you probably are not aware of the immense political upset that is brewing. My enemies in Tehran to the south are attempting to infiltrate my cities and turn my people against me. Times are good in Mazenderan, considering the turmoil I inherited. I don't mean to brag by any means, but I consider myself a good and benevolent ruler."

"The Daroga seems to agree with you, and I am inclined to trust his opinion," Erik admitted.

"I am glad. I have your loyalty then?"

Erik shook his head. "I didn't say that. With all due respect, Your Grace, I am a citizen of the world not of Mazenderan. My intent is only to stay until it no longer becomes beneficial."

"My friend, if you can help me I can promise your time here will remain beneficial for many years to come. Don't you ever tire of your travels? I've heard a lot about you, Erik. Raised by Gypsies, traveling as a magician… surely you can't be more than twenty five, and already you have seen more of the world than most men ever will. What I am offering in exchange for your talents promises to make your time here beneficial for as long as you live."

The masked man was quite obviously intrigued, and gestured for the Sultan to continue. "If you can aide me in keeping my enemies at bay, I can promise you power like nothing you have ever known, and all the wealth that comes with it. I can make you a prince, your wife a princess. The rooms you're in now would pale in comparison to a house of your own, don't you think? Men in your command, servants in your household… I can promise you, the life I am offering you is one you simply cannot find as a nomad."

Erik folded laced his fingers as he considered the man's proposal. "All right. But I have several accommodations I would like in the meantime."

"Whatever you would like," smiled the Sultan, genuinely.

"I require an apartment out looking the gardens. I also require absolute secrecy regarding my work. My wife… she does not like my other art, as I'm sure you can understand."

The Sultan nodded and gestured to a soldier standing guard to begin making arrangements."Consider it done. The Daroga will take you to your new rooms tomorrow morning. Officially, you are my advisor of European affairs. Unofficially, I will send you a list of names of men I need taken care of. Your pay will increase of course, and if you complete the list clandestinely there are many more gifts than a bride in your future," the Sultan promised, and rose. Erik bowed to the man deeply.

"I would be hard pressed to think of a better arrangement," with this, the masked man returned to his wife in their apartment.

Shoshana smiled to him when he entered, twirling some in a lovely set of pale blue robes. "Well? What do you think? I thought it was about time I buy some clothes for myself, something modest enough for a wife to wear in public."

"Well well!" Erik praised, taking her hand to spin her under his arm. "Simply stunning. So are the robes." He smiled, and Shoshana flushed happily.

"How did the meeting with the Sultan go?"

"It went remarkably well, actually. I had been a little nervous, but he only wanted me to serve as an advisor on European traits and customs. I suppose he's worried about invasion from Russia. At any rate it's better than being in the Sultana's employ, and it means better pay and a nicer apartment."

Shoshana grinned. "Oh that's wonderful! Will you still be doing your magic, then?"

"I think so, but I'm sure not as frequently. It simply means my life here is no longer completely under her control," his wife nodded, and reached up on her toes to kiss him shyly.

"I'm so happy for you. It seems silly to be worried about Europe from here, but I suppose it's better for the Sultan to be paranoid than not."

Erik merely shrugged. "I'm not going to question it. I've had a string of good luck lately and I don't feel like cursing that," his wife nodded her agreement eagerly. "What have you been doing in my absence?"

"Nothing really, I just went to the market to get better clothing and some food you can't really get in the Palace. I was actually really surprised to find some of it in the market at all."

"What sort of foods?"

Shoshana smile nostalgically and went to show him. "Challah bread, olive oil, and shkedei marak. The Challah is a little stale already, but I'm going to save it for Shabbat and eat it with honey. I'm going to make a soup with the shkedei marak and the oil, if I can remember Papa's recipe," she grinned so heartily Erik couldn't help but chuckle.

"I'm afraid I'm not too familiar with the cuisine of your people. What is shkedei marak, exactly?"

"They're like little crackers, made of flour and palm oil. They're really crispy, wonderful in papa's chicken soup recipe. It'll take all day, but it's worth it."

Erik smiled. "I'm sure it will be wonderful. I'm eager to try it," he promised, eliciting another grin.

"Have you eaten yet? I saved some cheese and bread for you."

"I have eaten, yes," he lied. "But thank you. I could use a walk, would you care to join me?"

"I would love to," she smiled, moving to grab a shawl before taking his arm to walk out of the palace and through the gardens in the early evening.


	12. Chapter 12

Several lazy weeks went by, seemingly uneventfully. Erik went out every night to aid the Sultan, and returned home early in the morning. He was always in bed by the time Shoshana woke up, something she enjoyed. She thought she might have trouble falling asleep next to someone after eighteen years of sleeping alone, but falling asleep alone and waking up with the weight of her husband in bed next to her wasn't a difficult arrangement at all. Every morning she would wake, bathe and dress. By the time she was done bathing Erik was always awake, usually working in his study or playing the piano. They would take a walk together in the garden just outside their apartment for an hour or two, before Erik would go to visit Reza and Shoshana would go off to the market for the day.

Today, things were slightly different. Erik was in bed when Shoshana woke, she got up, bathed and dressed, but when she slipped out of the bathroom again Erik was still in bed. She slipped out of the apartment to gather some food from the kitchens for breakfast, and when she returned nearly thirty minutes later Erik was still asleep in bed. Concerned, Shoshana decided to skip her walk and crawled back into bed with her husband, clothes and all.

Immediately she noticed a smell she hadn't caught when she woke. Erik was facing away from her, but when Shoshana curled against him and breathed him in there was the distinct smell of smoke in his hair. But this… this was not tobacco smoke or the sickly sweet smell of Opium. No, this was something different; this was the smell of hashish, the assassin's weed.

Shoshana shot out of bed, curling up in a chair as far away from the bed as she could get. An hour later Erik came to life, unfurling from bed with the feline grace. Without a trace of grogginess, he moved to the bathroom to bathe and dress. When he left the bathroom, he finally caught sight of Shoshana in her chair, holding her knees and looking deep in thought.

"You didn't bid me good morning this morning," he remarked, moving to the basked of food for a piece of fruit. "Is everything all right?"

"It's nearly ten. Reza will be wondering where you are by now," she remarked quietly.

"No he won't," Erik's voice was cold and bitter, and immediately Shoshana knew something was wrong.

"…What happened last night, Erik?"

"Reza Khan is dead."

Shoshana covered her mouth to suppress a gasp, tears welling in her eyes. "But you said he was doing well-"

"I lied, Shoshana. Not everybody is honest all the time, least of all me," the masked man snapped, moving out into the garden to take his walk alone, but Shoshana followed.

"How did it happen?" She asked, standing in the doorway from their apartment to the gardens and leaning on the frame. She couldn't bear to think of such a sweet boy starving, little more than a vegetable, or worth, that last panic he must have felt, unable to draw breath…

Erik froze in his tracks, and hung his head. His voice was barely audible, but Shoshana could just catch it on the wind. "He was poisoned. It was quick, painless," again Erik began to walk as Shoshana nearly stumbled back inside.

Her husband… her Erik had killed the boy. But how could he? How could he murder the child he had cared so much about? The fact he had ever taken a human life bothered her immensely… but the life of someone he had treasured so dearly? The thought was nearly maddening. It made her worry about her own safety; he cared about the little boy more than anyone, herself included. If he could take Reza's life, what was stopping him from taking her life too?

But he had said the death was quick and painless; was it a mercy killing? If Erik had been lying to her about Reza's condition, how bad had he really been? And if it was a mercy killing… was it okay? Was it okay to take a human life, to play God as an act of mercy? She had long known Erik did not hold the same moral standards she did, and she knew he delighted in power. Had he killed the boy in an act of power, or truly in an act of mercy? Was either way less of a crime than murder?

Shoshana was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling when Erik let himself back inside from the garden. He poured himself a large glass of wine, and moved to the piano to play. The melody was at once angry and anguished, lonely and heartbroken. Shoshana listened, feeling suddenly guilty for suspecting he had murdered the boy. Her heart ached for her husband, and after a good many minutes she stood from the bed to move behind him. Quietly she wrapped her arms around her husband where he sat. She stopped down to kiss his neck tenderly. Erik shrugged her away bitterly, causing Shoshana to frown.

"Erik… Talk to me. Please let me in," she asked him quietly, holding him tight around the middle and turning his head to place her lips on his.

Erik stopped playing when his head was turned, and Shoshana detected a cold saltiness to his lips. They had not been together since their wedding night, but they had shared polite, even affectionate kisses when they greeted one another and when they parted. In the weeks she had been kissing Erik and had been learning his lips, she had never once tasted him like this. Erik, her strong, powerful husband, was reduced to tears at the loss of a little boy he had no relation to.

Shoshana kissed him again and again, until Erik finally sobbed and gripped Shoshana's arms in anguish. He pulled her slight form against him, holding her tightly in a desperate attempt to draw comfort from her. Shoshana's heart broke at this display of agony, and she continued to kiss him firmly, soothingly. She stroked his hair and pulled his face into her neck. "Shh… It's going to be okay, Erik. He's not in pain anymore. It's going to be okay…" she soothed, as she rocked her husband gently.

He moved his head from her neck to kiss her, desperately seeking comfort. Shoshana returned Erik's kisses in full, cupping his masked face in her hands. She wasn't quite sure how it was they moved from the piano to the bed, but it wasn't long before each was shedding their clothes quietly between kisses. Quietly they climbed between the sheets, and Erik took comfort from his wife as readily as she offered it. Their union was longer this time, slow and quiet as both tried if only for a while to forget the tragedy of what had happened and the gravity of Erik's involvement. Though she was not the one in need of comforting, Erik distracted himself further by listening to her body and meeting her needs as best he knew how. He was only satisfied when his bride quivered and gripped at his back, and finally he collapsed over her and buried his face in her neck once again.

Shoshana stroked her husband's back, trying not to fuss too much at how little he weight as he blanketed her. Without a word he moved onto his back, pulling her with him in his arms. He held her as if she float away if he let her go, and spoke ever so quietly. "Thank you…"

"Erik… you are an extraordinarily strange, equally remarkable man. You don't ever have to thank me. Especially not for something like this," she promised, moving up his body to place a kiss on his lips before resting her head on his shoulder.

In the tenderness of the moment, Erik couldn't bear to admit to her the other crimes he had committed that night.


	13. Chapter 13

Erik didn't go out that day. This surprised Shoshana, but not in a negative way; it actually felt like being married for the entire day instead of for just a few hours in the mornings. Without Reza, Shoshana supposed he had nowhere else to go. They spent hours together in bed, talking about nothing of any importance but still feeling closer to one another with every word. When finally Shoshana got out of bed, she went off to the market to buy fresher ingredients than could be found in the kitchens and made them a regular feast for dinner. Grief and exertion had left them both starving, so Shoshana made all of the heartiest meals she knew.

When she took his bowl and ladled it full with a third helping of the creamy chicken soup, Erik chuckled. "If I have so much as another bite I will burst," he accused as Shoshana bustled off to fill his plate with an array of breads, including some strange, sweet, sticky roll Erik enjoyed.

"Lies," she accused right back with a grin. "I have three brothers, I know how men are supposed to eat. If I haven't brought you up to a healthy weight by the time we're old and gray I will have failed as your wife."

"Do I have to put all the weight on today?" He asked, quite amused, though he gladly took the sweet roll off the plate to pull it apart and place pieces in his mouth.

"Well well, someone has a sweet tooth," she noticed, delighted. "Here have another one."

"I'm serious Shoshana, I will burst and you will be the one cleaning bits and pieces of me off the walls."

She placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned in to kiss his masked cheek. "Nonsense."

Suddenly there was a sharp knock at the door. Erik tensed some and Shoshana pecked his lips comfortingly. "I'll get it."

Erik grabbed her wrist forcefully, but not painfully. "No. Why don't you go wash up for bed?" He suggested, and Shoshana obeyed, nervously. What could possibly have set him on edge? Surely he wasn't a criminal for committing an act of mercy? Slipping into the bathroom, she ran the water but listened at the door.

Nadir moved into the room as soon as Erik opened the door. "Of course, come right in," Erik murmured sarcastically.

"You've gone too far this time, Erik. Would you care to explain the bodies my men found today? Three men and two women. FIVE people, Erik, three of them strangled."

"Please, Daroga, calm yourself. Sit, have something to eat," Erik bade the man, who refused to budge.

"I'm going to ask you frankly, Erik, and I expect a frank answer. Did you kill these people?"

"I've been here all day, you can ask my wife."

"That isn't what I asked," snapped the Daroga. "They died sometime last night between when you left my apartment and sun-up. Are you responsible for their deaths?"

Erik sat when the Daroga didn't, taking another sweet roll off the table and picking at it gently. "I can't be certain, I only remember flashes of last night after I left. The women I know I did not kill, but the men… The men were probably me, yes."

"How am I supposed to believe you, Erik? You've killed twenty or thirty people since I brought you here, at least-"

"Far less than that, Daroga. Last night is the only night my memory is hazy on, for better or for worse. With the exception of the task the Sultan has given me, I have killed four men and no women. Not counting last night, I suppose that would make seven."

"Erik you say that as if it's nothing! Whatever task the Sultan has given you is beyond my power, but those seven men are my responsibility. SEVEN men! And how do I know you're not downplaying your crimes?"

"You don't," admitted Erik. "There has been an increase in crime since I have arrived, I will give you that. But Daroga, I can tell you exactly which four men I killed and I can guarantee you will somehow be able to link them back to me with your talents. The rest you will find no trace at all. This happens wherever I go; As soon as people realize I am here, they began to sort out their grudges. They know if it comes down to it, the Angel of Death will be the one blamed, not some innocent store keeper or lady of the night."

Nadir sighed and rubbed his face. "I have to arrest you, Erik. If the Sultan is still pleased with your work, maybe he will release you. But I can't allow this to continue," Erik nodded his understanding, and stood without a word. "What was it you took last night that you can't remember what happened?"

"My usual Opium den was closed. Nearby was a man selling this glorious herb he called hashish. It is the first time in all my life I've been able to forget anything at all. It was truly incredible," he admitted. The lack of remorse in Erik's voice sent chills up Nadir's spine. The simple ability to forget was worth more to him than the lives of three men.

"Where is Shoshana?"

"In the bath. It's been a long day for her," Erik explained quietly.

"We can wait a bit if you would like to say goodbye," Nadir offered. It had been a long day for him as well, coping with the loss of his son and now the weight of these crimes, but Erik had done so much for him it was an easy allowance to make.

But Erik shook his head. "No." He didn't have the heart for goodbye. While he knew nothing here could hold him long enough to kill him, his time here was over. By morning he would be back on the road, and Shoshana would undoubtedly have forgotten about him within the week. Nadir thought this was wrong, but he didn't argue; Erik was a strange man, with strange habits. If he was willing to abandon his wife without so much as a goodbye, that was his own choice.

When Shoshana heard the door close and silence in the room, she slipped out of the bathroom with tears in her eyes. This was too much for her to take in… She wasn't sure exactly how to feel about what she had just heard. For ages Shoshana had known her husband had committed murders… but she had always thought it was in the past, not something that had happened recently. And as recent as last night! She felt nearly sick to her stomach at the thought, dirty and used.

Then why was she so hurt that he had not wanted to say goodbye? She should be grateful he was leaving; she would be a widow if he was found guilty, never having to rejoin the harem, never having to remarry. She would be free of so many of the struggles of Persian life. Still, she was hurt. He had lied to her, he had used her… but still she missed him. Even though she usually only saw him in the mornings, he had become an integral part of her life. That day alone had been both so heartbreaking and wonderful she knew she would never forget it. Simple things like sharing a meal, or going on a walk through the gardens, telling stories, these were the things Shoshana would miss about her husband.

Things were not going to end like this, Shoshana decided. Erik may not have wanted to say goodbye, but Shoshana needed it. She needed to hear his voice, she craved an explanation for all this wrongdoing. Somewhere deep in her heart she longed for a reason to forgive him and hold him again. Pulling on a shawl, she moved out in an effort to find the Daroga and her husband.

After nearly an hour of searching, Shoshana learned that Erik was being held in one of the cells at the center of the palace, with the Daroga keeping watch. She had never been to the holding cells, but she knew whereabouts they were. Pulling her shawl tighter around her, she moved down to the cellars at the center of the palace, towards the sound of two low male voices speaking quietly. Venturing closer, she finally saw the shape of the Daroga, sitting cross legged in front of a cell.

Hearing her footsteps, the Daroga turned his head and frowned some. He spoke low to the man in the cell, and then stood to meet Shoshana.

"He doesn't want to see you, Shoshana. I'm sorry."

The young woman shook her head. "He's the one in a cell. He'll see me whether he wants to or not," she told the man firmly, and Nadir sighed some before showing her to the cell he had been sitting in front of. Erik was seated inside the cell, looking ashamed to be seen in such a state. Shoshana gave the Daroga a look asking to be left alone to speak, and the man obliged, moving off out of earshot but close enough to be present if he was needed.

"…I don't even know what to say to you, Erik."

"That is why I didn't want to say goodbye," He told her quietly, but Shoshana shook her head.

"You are such… There are no words to describe what a monster you are. Nobody, not even the Sultana has made me feel as dirty and used as you did today, I hope you know that."

Erik frowned deeply upon hearing that. "That was never my intent, Shoshana. I knew you would hate me for what I've done, I never wanted to see you like that."

"I'm starting to think I couldn't hate you if I tried," Shoshana told him with a bit of a frown. "I want to hate you. I should hate you. You're a _murder_. And what is this "business" with the Sultan Nadir spoke about? Not advising him on Europe, I take it," she demanded, and Erik winced some.

"More death. More destruction, more murders. I am a master assassin, the Sultan is putting my talents to use."

Shoshana sat in front the cell, reaching a hand through the bars to cup his face. "You are so immensely talented, Erik. You are world class at everything you do. I've seen your drawings, you should be an architect, not an assassin. You could write music better than you could ever murder." Quietly, she took the mask off his face, and watched as he instantly seemed to become half the man he had been just moments before. But she didn't flinch, she didn't gasp. Shoshana knew what to expect, and was prepared for it.

She showed him the mask, holding it in front of him and forcing him to confront it. "This doesn't have to define you anymore, Erik. You don't have to kill and steal anymore. I'll talk to Nadir, we can find a way to get you off and we'll leave."

Erik shook his head. "I've already made arrangements," quietly he took his mask out of her hands, effortlessly putting it back onto his face. "You can't come with me, Shoshana. My lifestyle isn't one that can be shared."

"You are a good man, Erik, no matter whether you want to believe it or not. You can't expect me to just sit by and watch you throw your life away, not after everything you've done for me. What happened to wanting to live instead of just survive? You gave me that chance, I'm not going to just let you run away from yours."

Erik sighed, and their conversation was suddenly interrupted by Nadir as he approached. The man looked as if he didn't know whether or not to be pleased. "I just got word from the Sultan. You're to be set free and released of your charges," Shoshana and Erik both stood so Nadir could unlock the cell. "Congratulations. He wishes to see you at sundown."

Shoshana frowned as Erik stepped from the cell, but she took his arm and rested her head on his shoulder. As soon as they were away from the cellars and from the Daroga, she spoke again. "I don't want you to go tonight, Erik. Not if he wants you to keep killing." Erik frowned some.

"Shoshana, I don't have a choice."

"You have a choice, Erik. You told me yourself, you're not a prisoner here. Give him some of your drawings. Build something for him," she asked, nearly pleading. "Marriage may not mean much to you, but it means a lot to me. I want you to be happy, I want you to be healthy. Your life is my life now, for better or worse. Please, if you won't do it for yourself, do it for me."

The masked man was quiet for a long while. "Okay. I make no promises, but I'll talk to the Sultan."


	14. Chapter 14

Erik returned from his meeting with the Sultan somewhat triumphant. Shoshana was already asleep when he came in, but he curled into bed next to her to watch her as he slept. Her devotion was unusual and extraordinary, he thought. He had never met anyone so determined to stick to their word as this little Jewish dancer. Never in his life had anyone offered to join him on his travels. Not that he would have allowed them to, but even still her offer had been genuine and touching. For all intents and purposed, she seemed to actually want him to be well and live well. Having someone on his side… well, that was unusual for Erik, and he wasn't quite sure if it was welcome.

One thing Shoshana did not seem to understand about Erik was his total lack of remorse for killing seven men since arriving in Persia. Three of them had been killed purely out of sport, and yet Erik suffered not a twinge of guilt whatsoever. He had been upset; between that and the influence of hashish, he felt he could not be held accountable for his actions. As for the other four, they had been self defense… more or less. They were men who had caught Erik using false jewels to purchase alcohol or opium, men who had turned him out of the brothels they ran when Erik refused to show his face, once even a man who had been foolish enough to attempt to pickpocket Erik, who was a master of the art himself. In his mind, all of these deaths had been justified and were nothing to mourn over.

Apparently, the Sultan had agreed. Since the killings were men of ill repute and not anyone innocent or of importance, the man agreed clear Erik's name. However, it was in exchange for a favor; one last assassination, of the Sultan of Tehran himself. The man was planning to wage all out war against Mazenderan, something the Sultan couldn't afford. There simply were not enough able bodied men in the quiet community of Mazenderan to fend off such a military giant. If war was waged, all would certainly be lost. With great reluctance, Erik accepted his freedom in exchange for this favor.

However one step forward was made. He informed the Sultan of his abilities as an architect, bringing along drawings he had done of a palace far grander than even the Court of Mazenderan.

"I can renovate this building in small portions at a time, the project could be completed in no more than five years with minimal disturbances to palace life," Erik told the man, who shook his head.

"No, no. Something this magnificent must be built from the ground up, surely! I have just the piece of land for it. In case the worst happens it will be good to have a place to stay well away from the border of Tehran. How long will it take from the ground up?"

"Two, three years, Your Grace. Assuming I can get the materials in a timely manner, and enough men to service the project. I wouldn't want to take away from your army."

"If you do your job as planned, the number of able bodied men shouldn't matter. Consider the project funded. Place the orders you need, send the bill to me. I want construction started as soon as possible," the Sultan ordered, dismissing his servant.

Erik didn't dare thing about the logistics of killing the Sultan of Tehran, not now. He had been sure not to promise Shoshana that the killing would cease, but accepting this final request from the Sultan still felt like betraying her. He didn't sleep at all that night; he merely watched her dream, ignorant of the delicate situation they were in. His sudden involvement with the politics of Mazenderan made him a target if he were ever discovered, which put her well being in danger also. Hopefully with the construction of this new palace, life would settle down.

When the sun rose, Shoshana stretched languidly. She turned in bed and smiled to him sleepily. "You're up early. How did it go last night?"

"Very well. The Sultan adored my work, I'm to begin construction as soon as possible."

Shoshana grinned. "That's wonderful! Congratulations," Gently she kissed him before sitting up with another stretch.

"How would you like to visit home for a few weeks?" He asked, and the suddenness of the question caught her off guard.

"I'm sorry?"

"Back to your homeland. I'll be terribly busy starting work on the palace, gathering a crew, ordering materials, finishing sketches, laying the foundation. I see no reason why you couldn't visit your family in the mean time," Erik offered, moving out of bed.

"…Erik that's so incredibly kind of you to suggest. But I can't go home," she said sadly, remaining where she sat.

"I don't see why not."

She sighed some. "It's… complicated. If you think the conflict between Mazenderan and Tehran is getting bad, you should see how things are in the Holy Land. I couldn't tell you where my family is right now. We were chased out of Jerusalem when I was a little girl, and we've been nomads ever since. The only thing that separates us from Gypsies is our faith and our dignity... I honestly couldn't tell you if my family is alive or dead. I guess in a way it's a blessing I was taken here," she smiled sadly. "At least here the conflict is miles away. Besides, the Sultana would never let me go-"

"The Sultana doesn't matter anymore. You are my wife, not hers, and I can send you where I please when I please to do so," Erik snapped some, but his voice softened. "But I think you're right, it doesn't seem like a good idea to send you someplace that is so conflicted," he admitted sadly.

Shoshana went to the bathroom, running a bath but leaving the door open just the slightest bit so she could still talk with her husband. "That reminds me, Erik. You've told me a little about Israel, but you've only ever mentioned France and the Gypsies. I want to hear more, especially about France. When I was a little girl I dreamed of doing ballet in Paris when I was older," she mused nostalgically.

"There isn't much to say about France. Most of my time in France was spent locked in a house with a wicked witch. The only time I saw France from the outside of that house was when I traveled with the Gypsies, and we didn't stay in the country long."

Shoshana frowned from her bath. "A witch? Is that how you learned your magic?"

"I learned some of it during that time, but not from her. She was a selfish woman, too afraid of my talents to teach me anything but the bible." He sneered some.

"You're a Christian then?" So they shared a God after all, if not the savior.

"By breeding, not necessarily by practice. I have more qualms with the churches than I do the beliefs though." He admitted. "I've never been to church, but all the men of the cloth I've ever met have been pigs."

Shoshana's brow furrowed some. "Why is that? I've met several kind priests in the past."

"One in particular tried to exorcise me," The young woman gasped audibly from the bath, and Erik hung his head some. "I was a particularly moody child… For all I trusted him, Father Mansart didn't trust me a hair. I had a fit one day, and he became convinced that my genius, coupled with my face and my mood swings was a sure sign of possession. Needless to say, the exorcism didn't improve my mood," he remarked coldly.

"Erik I'm so sorry… That would never happen where I'm from, not ever."

"Yes well, that's the difference between Europe and the East I suppose."

"Did you learn your magic from the gypsies then?" She pried, after a considerably amount of silence.

"Much of it, yes. I certainly perfected what I already knew there."

"Why did you leave them?" This question was met with a silence so long Shoshana wasn't sure if her husband had heard her. "Erik?"

"That, My Wife, is a story for another day," perhaps never, he thought to himself. "Come out now before you wrinkle up like an old woman." Shoshana drained the bath obediently, and closed the door to dress.

When she slipped out of the bathroom, Erik spoke again. "I was thinking, perhaps if you can't go home you ought to take up dancing again," he suggested. "You certainly haven't lost much if any of your talent, if your performance at the Sultan's party is any indication. And it will give you something to do while I'm busy working."

"Oh, I don't know. I do miss it, but who would I perform for? Besides… I was thinking maybe we could have a child," she ventured innocently. "That would certainly give me something to do-"

Erik cut her off so sharply Shoshana nearly jumped. "You must never, ever suggest such a thing again. Am I understood?"

"But Erik-"

"Am I understood?" The masked man was nearly bellowing, his eyes glowing with rage. She had no idea what had set him off so, but she was so startled by his sudden violence she could do nothing more than nod. "Good," he stalked past her into the bathroom to bathe, not saying another word on the subject.


	15. Chapter 15

Things had been tense between the pair since she had suggested they might have children. Shoshana hadn't really known how to approach Erik after that conversation. It had been such an innocent suggestion, especially by a wife to her husband, but Erik had reproached her as if she had suggested they spit on the Sultana's feet. Erik had forbidden her from asking about children again, and she had nodded her understanding, but she was reluctant to let that conversation be the end. Having grown up in a large family, Shoshana had always expected to have children someday. She hadn't even considered a life without them, alone with a husband but no children to rear.

Erik had started going out again during the days, but was usually home by nightfall. This pleased Shoshana, for it meant her husband wasn't possibly getting into any distasteful business during nights. What she didn't know is how distasteful the business could be during the day as well, and just how well his work towards assassinating the Sultan of Tehran was going.

December was rapidly coming to an end, and in spite of their distance lately Erik noticed a change in Shoshana's mood. Where she had been quite for a few week, now he frequently overheard her humming songs he didn't recognize just under her breath. Her steps were lighter, and her mood was less solemn. Finally one morning she spoke more than two words to him for the first time in ages.

"Do you know what day today is?" She spoke as if she already knew the answer.

"I don't, actually. What day is it?"

"It's Christmas," she smiled some to him.

Erik raised a brow at his wife from under the mask. "You don't celebrate Christmas, why should it matter?"

"Well, no. But you're a Christian, you celebrate it right?"

"I told you, I'm only a Christian by breeding, not by practice. It doesn't even quite feel the season here. I'm more accustomed to snow than to sand this time of year," he mused.

"I got you something anyway," her private smile erupted into a grin, as reached under their bead to pull out a roll of parchment tied neatly with a boy, and a long wooden box. "It isn't much, but I didn't want the holiday to go unmarked. Besides, tomorrow is the start of Chanukah; I've been in the gifting mood. You're really the only person I have to give anything to," she explained.

Erik was quite surprised by this display. Unsure of how to react, he accepted the gifts quietly. Shoshana smiled broadly. "Go on, open them."

Doing as he was told, Erik undid the ribbon on the parchment and was surprised to see them lined with musical staves, top to bottom. This was good European style composition paper. Erik had been getting by lining his own paper in an unsteady hand, but this was pre-printed and flawless. "Shoshana how did you-"

"Wait there's more, the box too," she grinned, sitting at the table beside him to watch.

Lifting the lid of the flat wooden box, Erik was greeted by the sight of two flawless quills and a dozen different nibs of varying shape and size. "Shoshana where did you find these?"

"A gypsy caravan came in from Europe, I bartered for them. Look I know I haven't been in the best mood lately, but it's your first Christmas in an Islamic country. I didn't want it to go uncelebrated."

"All of my Christmases have gone uncelebrated, no matter what country I'm in," he remarked quietly. "…Thank you. This is certainly the nicest gift anyone has given me."

"I'm sure it can't be, it's really not much," she promised.

"It is, though. The only other gift I've been given was for my fifth birthday. A friend of my mother's gave me a book on ventriloquism. I had to sneak looks at it; my mother hid it from me almost immediately," Erik confided.

"What is 'ventriloquism'?"

Erik spoke entirely without moving his mouth, sending his voice to her right shoulder. "This is," and then to her left shoulder. "And this," Shoshana nearly jumped out of her skin.

"How did you do that?" She demanded, every hair on her neck standing on end. "This isn't more of your magic is it?"

Erik laughed heartily at her reaction. "No, it isn't. It's a more difficult illusion is all. Ventriloquism is the art of projecting your voice to other places, often without moving your lips. I'm a master at it by now; it's how I made my living with the Gypsies for the most part. I used to make funeral flowers sing to me."

"I've been meaning to ask you about the Gypsies for a while, but after you got so angry with me I couldn't hardly stand speaking with you… Anyway, you traveled with them, you said once. The ones who came here, they had a freak show with them," she was hesitating, fumbling over her words some.

"Yes, Shoshana, out with it," Erik commanded impatiently.

"They displayed you with the freaks, didn't they? Because of your face?" Her voice was timid, clearly afraid of eliciting another angry response from her husband like the time she had removed his mask and was startled. To her surprise, Erik remained calm though did seem noticeably more upset than he had been before.

"Yes, they did. So I suppose in a sense I didn't travel with them any more than their dogs did, I was simply their property," he admitted. "Though as I got older they let me out of the cage I was kept in and gave me a tent of my own. Not out of any kindness, I assure you."

"That was how you met my people, wasn't it? Traveling with the Gypsies?" She ventured again, more boldly this time.

"It was. We were in Jewish territory performing once, and one of their elders saw me, and demanded I be let out of my cage or that the Gypsies leave," Erik had never forgotten that man. A complete stranger with no ties to the boy had demanded he be freed; it was utterly inhumane to lock up a child like an animal, the man had told the owner of the freak show, who merely laughed at him. The man had even tried to purchase Erik, but times were hard and the price was too steep. The Jews had refused to trade with the Gypsies on the elders orders, and not a single one attended the freak show. The Gypsies had had no choice but to move on to more prosperous grounds. Erik was left with immense respect for the Judaic people after that, in spite of the fact they had not be able to free him.

"Erik… Erik I think that man was my Papa," Erik looked at her, surprised. "I was very young when the Gypsies passed by our settlement, probably eight or nine years old. I remember he was very upset about a little boy the Gypsies were keeping in a cage as a freak. A boy with deformities, but with bright eyes and a strong heart I remember him saying. I remember him and my older brother Lot counting our money to see if we had enough to buy the boy his freedom. But the man running the side show kept raising the price, and we didn't have enough. So he told everyone in the village never to trade with that troupe of Gypsies, not until they let go the little boy."

Erik's eyes were wide when at last he was able to speak. "I don't know if you will ever have the opportunity to see your father again Shoshana, but if you do… Would you please give him my undying gratitude?"

"I hope you'll be able to tell him yourself someday. But if not, I certainly will, Husband," she promised, standing to kiss his masked cheek. "Now, as a present to me… I was hoping we could talk about a child. Not now," she added quickly. "But eventually. Erik we're too young to say never…"

"My answer is now and will always be no, Shoshana," he told her impatiently, but she pressed forward.

"I've wanted children my whole life. I come from a large family, I can't imagine what life would have been like without so much love and support. Besides, it'd be a little piece of both of us-"

"That is precisely what I dislike about the idea, Shoshana, and is why my answer will remain no."

"Why does that bother you? It's supposed to be a romantic idea, isn't it? No matter what happens to us we'll live on together inside of our children."

"_This_ is why." Erik said simply, gesturing to his mask. "A little piece of you in a child would be fine, wonderful even. But the risk of transmitting whatever it is I have been cursed with onto a child is too great."

Shoshana frowned. She hadn't considered that. "Surely it was just a fluke. Your mother wasn't-"

"My mother was beautiful, and my father was handsome as could be. And yet I was born with the face of death incarnate. If they couldn't fend off such rotten luck I would be immensely arrogant to think I could. I have not led a good life, Shoshana, and I have no desire to bring a child into this world to continue that trend. Not to mention children complicate everything. I need my freedom, Shoshana, I need to know that if something happens I can vanish without a trace, and move on to the next place where the pastures are greener."

Shoshana folded her arms. "You'll have an awfully hard time doing that with a wife, but I concede it would be even harder with abandoning a child on your conscience."

"Please, forget the idea Shoshana. I have no desire for children. And you shouldn't either, not by me at least. I nearly killed my mother in delivery, and I know you would not be able to handle raising a child like me," his wife glared at him, offended by that last remark.

"If you think I would love a child of ours any less than I love you just because it-" She cut herself short, realizing the words that had just come out of her mouth. She gaped for a moment before grabbing her shawl and excusing herself to the garden to walk, mind racing over the gravity of what she had just said. Erik could do nothing but stare after her as she left.


	16. Chapter 16

Shoshana didn't return home until the sun was up the following morning. She was met with the sight of her husband pacing anxiously. From this view he looked so much like a wild cat it made her nervous to step inside the glass doors from the gardens. Instantly Erik's posture was flooded with relief, and he moved to embrace his wife tightly before stepping back to reprimand her.

"Where the hell have you been, Shoshana?"

"I'm sorry, I just… kept walking. When it got dark I got tired, so I sat down on a bench to rest but I fell asleep," She explained. "I didn't mean to worry you."

Erik studied her hard before moving away from her. Shoshana frowned some.

"You don't believe me. What else would have happened, Erik?" She demanded, and Erik rounded on her.

"It's not as if there aren't scores of men in this court alone who would die to have you. And you'd have better luck finding one of them who wants children."

Shoshana's mouth hung agape for a moment. "I… you… you think I slept with someone? How can that thought even cross your mind, Erik? I'm your wife for God sake, not some… some whore," she looked devastated that he would ever think so low of her, that the thought had even crossed his mind. "We've shared a bed every night since you were arrested, last night I walked too far and got tired. I slept too long, that's all. If I were with someone else don't you think someone as painfully observant as you are would have noticed something suspicious by now? Or do you think I'm so easy it was just a one night occurrence, hm?" She demanded, now the more upset of the pair. Erik glared at her hard.

"I cannot believe you are the one who does not trust me. You, the man who lied to me for months about where you were and what you were doing! I trusted you implicitly, Erik, I never once thought you might be with some other woman. Stand aside, I need a bath; my back is killing me," she demanded.

Erik obeyed, but not without a sneer. "I'm not surprised, you're terribly limber." Shoshana's eyes widened at the insult, and in a bold move she smacked her husband hard across the face, causing his mask to fall. In a fury Erik grabbed both of her wrists, holding them up above her head and throwing her hard against the wall. She sputtered and coughed as her wind left her upon impact. Erik let go of one of her wrists and forced her face up to stare directly at his.

"I have given you more freedoms in this house than you deserve Shoshana, but the ability to strike me without reprimand will never, _ever_ be one of them. Am I clear? Am I clear?" He barked a second time, until Shoshana nodded weakly as the breath finally entered her lungs. Dropping her other wrist she collapsed to the floor trying hard not to cry; in his terrifying closeness, she had caught the smell of hashish on his breath, and didn't dare agitate him more. Without a word she slipped into the bathroom and locked the door firmly behind her.

She sat in the hot water until it ran cold and her hands withered up. Finally she drained the bath, but didn't dare leave the safety of the room. Sitting naked in the empty bath, she held her knees to her chest praying silently for comfort and guidance. If there was a day for prayers to be heard, surely it was the first day of Chanukah.

After a long while there was a quiet knock at the door. "Shoshana? Is everything all right?" Erik's voice ventured, almost shyly. Getting up and dressing, Shoshana moved to stand against the door but didn't dare to open it.

"No Erik, it isn't."

This elicited a deep frown from the other side of the door. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I should never have touched you like that."

Shoshana opened the door a tiny bit, ready to close it and lock it again in an instant if she had to. "You hurt me, Erik. First you accuse me of cheating, then you throw me into a wall? I had so much respect for you… but the hashish makes you a horrible man." Erik hung his head some at the suggestion she had lost respect for him. He was nothing if he was not respected, especially by his wife.

"I don't want you coming near me with that awful weed in your lungs ever again," she told him firmly.

"Yes, of course," he agreed, eyes still fixated on the floor.

"Erik, look me in the eyes and swear to me you won't come near me under its influence," finally Erik raised his gaze, mask back on his face but with tears of guilt still managing to sting his cheeks.

"I swear it. Just… promise me you won't leave because of this," he asked of her in return.

"I won't leave this time. But if I ever find myself in fear for my life I won't have a choice but to leave," she told him softly, and Erik nodded his agreement. She didn't know where she would go, but she knew Erik's ability to kill without thought was unmatched, and she faced better chances of survival alone in the desert than against one of his rages.

Finally she stepped out of the bathroom, and Erik embraced her firmly. Shoshana didn't return the gesture, causing Erik to frown some. "How are your wrists?"

"Better than my back," she admitted quietly. "I've been getting spoiled with our bed; it's much nicer than a stone bench."

"Lie down in the bed, and pull down your dress to your waist. No more harm will come to you than when I bandaged your back, I swear on my life," he added quickly when she gave him a nervous glance. Quietly she obeyed, and before long the room smelled of a warm mix of almonds and cinnamon.

"What are you doing?" She asked quietly, glancing at his form holding a bowl over a candle.

"Infusing almond oil with cinnamon. It soothes sore muscles." Removing a cinnamon stick from the bowl, Erik moved over to her. He swirled the hot mixture in the bowl to cool it enough to touch before drizzling the slightest bit on her back to work it into her muscles. She was immensely surprised at how quickly the muscles in her back relaxed at his touch, and she absolutely loved the smell of cinnamon and almonds.

When she began to relax, she finally spoke again. "What happened last night that caused you to smoke?"

Rubbing the warm oil into her neck, he frowned some. "It's a little hazy. I remember going out to the market to look for you. I was worried you'd been kidnapped or raped, or worse. I questioned the owners of a few of the brothels to see if maybe you'd been sold to one, with no luck. The next thing I remember I was smoking. I wanted to kill whoever had taken you from me, that much I remember."

"Why would someone take me? I'm nobody."

"That's exactly why, Shoshana. I thought you might be sold as a sex slave. It's safer for men to take nobodies into that trade. They're never missed, and never recognized. Rape and ransom, that is a different story. I was afraid my political involvement lately might have caused my enemies to lash out against you instead of against me. It is a low, but often very effective blow," Erik explained, and Shoshana shuddered.

"That does remind me though," Erik moved off the bed, to a bag that hung off the coat rack by the door. Shoshana sat up to watch him but Erik motioned for her to lie back down. "The oil hasn't absorbed all the way yet, you'll feel better if you stay put a few more minutes," Shoshana returned to lie down, propping herself up on a pillow some to watch him pull a stunning silver menorah from the bag, along with nine tall, white candles. The menorah was arranged like vines up a building, curling and branching upwards and out into the nine candle-holders, one for each day of Chanukah with a tall one in the center for the shamash, the candle with which to light the eight others. She couldn't help but sit up again at the sight of it.

"Oh Erik… it's beautiful. But you shouldn't have gotten it, it'll be a red flag in a place like this."

"So we'll keep it away from the door and the windows. If we can celebrate Christmas here I see no reason why we can't celebrate Chanukah," he told her. "I got it last night, before I started getting too worried. I'd almost forgotten about it."

Quickly she pulled up her dress and moved to the menorah to exam its familiar structure with a nostalgic smile. "…I know we've been at odds lately, but it would mean a lot to me if you would light the first candle with me tonight. I'm not asking you to say the blessings or anything you don't believe in," she added quickly. "But you don't have to be Jewish to light a candle."

Erik considered this for a long moment before nodding. "Okay. I can't see any harm in it."

Shoshana smiled before going to the kitchens to get them dinner. They ate quietly, and as soon as it was dark Shoshana lit one of the candles to serve as the shamash. Placing another candle to the far right of the candelabra, she guided Erik's hand to take the center candle back out of its place. Her hand over his, she covered the flame from the wind with her free hand and sang the night's blessings quietly. When the candle was lit, they replaced the shamash to its holder and Shoshana leaned against her husband to watch the quiet little flames of the two candles.

"This was always my favorite holiday," she told him quietly. "I always loved watching the flames of the candles dance. I used to try and mimic them when I was a girl," she smiled some nostalgically.

"I'm sorry it started out so poorly."

She turned and kissed his cheek gently. "Me too. But it started out poorly for my ancestors too," She pointed out. "The miracle was that the oil lasted eight days, not that they were running low on the first." Shoshana smiled up to him gently, and Erik caught her meaning. A single event wasn't what was really important, not when there was all the time in the world to be had. "This is the best gift I've ever been given, Erik. Thank you."

"I'm sure you've received better than a menorah before."

"The menorah isn't what's important, it's the meaning behind it. After two years with no way to celebrate except sing the blessings, it's like having a piece of home with me again. I've been so homesick the past week or two, this is a wonderful, wonderful gift," Shoshana turned in his arms and placed one of his hands on her hip, the other she took in hers and raised it comfortably. Erik watched her curiously.

"What are you doing?"

"Dancing with the flame. It looks like a waltz to me tonight." She smiled up at him gently. "Are you going to lead or are you going to make me do it?" She added playfully.

"I don't know how to dance, let alone waltz." Erik told her and she dismissed the comment with a wave.

"It's easy. A waltz is 3/4 time, you know that. Sing one for me and I'll lead for a minute until you pick it up."

Erik sang a simple melody in the given time quietly, and Shoshana picked up the tempo and began to count for them as she moved. Erik nodded gently as he began to pick up on the rhythm. "Ready to try it?" She asked, and Erik nodded. Without a word Erik took over the lead, still singing the quiet little waltz. Shoshana followed his lead happily, and they danced for nearly half an hour before Shoshana stopped them to blow out the candles to save them for the rest of the holiday.

"Thank you for the dance, Husband."

"The pleasure was mine, mon cher."


	17. Chapter 17

One day in early January, Erik vanished. He had gone off on business after their morning walk through the garden, but simply had not come home. For all his anger about her night out in the garden, she couldn't hardly believe he was doing this to her. She was both worried and livid when Nadir knocked at their apartment on the second morning of Erik's absence. Shoshana's heart sank when she saw him, immediately fearing the worst.

"Daroga, please come in," She bade, and stepped aside to allow the man in. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Water please, if you have it. I bring word of your husband," Shoshana moved quickly to get the man water. Nadir drank deeply, clearly thirsty from a day out in the sun.

"Is he okay?"

"He is. He regrets he couldn't tell you when or where he was going, but I can attest that he did not know himself until the journey was well underway. He begs that you not be angry with him," Shoshana nodded eagerly.

"No, how could I be angry if he didn't know? I'm just glad he's all right..."

Nadir nodded. "He was when I left him, at any rate, and I don't suppose things have changed."

"Where is he? When will he be home?"

"He is Tehran. I can't say when he'll be home, but likely not for a few more days. Maybe even a week. I was required back here for other matters; it seems your husband is being framed for several murders. I can prove his whereabouts but there were two strangling just last night."

"But why would anyone want to frame Erik for murder?"

The Daroga could only shrug. "I wouldn't know where to begin. With the reputation he came here with, he'd make an easy scapegoat for someone to take out a personal grudge. Or maybe the motives are more political in natures. It's hard to say without further investigation, but the good news is it makes me inclined to believe he really is only guilty of the murders he's confessed to."

Wrinkling her nose, Shoshana spoke. "I'd prefer it if he weren't guilty of any of them, but I understand. A handful is better than scores. When will you know when he will be back?"

"Not until he returns, I'm afraid. Maybe a day before if he writes, but I doubt if he will."

It was a full two weeks after Nadir's visit that word of Erik reached Mazenderan. For the first week, Shoshana hadn't worried much at all; Nadir had warned her it might be a week before he arrived home. But every day after that first week her worry increased exponentially. Nadir began to visit her more and more frequently, keeping her company and bringing her food and water so she could be home in case Erik suddenly showed up. On the morning of the fifteenth day after Erik's disappearance, Shoshana opened the door to a somber Daroga.

"…Nadir what's wrong?"

"Erik is ill. The caravan will be in this afternoon, but they're not sure he'll make it until then. They think it may be poison or worse," Shoshana's eyes began to tear and she sat shakily down on the bed.

"'Or worse'? What could be worse? Is he in pain?"

"…There may be ground glass involved. He is in a great deal of pain from what I can gather, but he's hardly conscious at this point."

Shoshana sobbed some under the hand that had moved to her mouth. Without really thinking, she moved to grab her shawl, tying it tight around her shoulders.

"Shoshana what are you doing?"

"I'm going to see him. Do you know where the caravan is right now?"

"Not precisely. They're somewhere south east of here, probably a few hours out but in motion. It'd be almost impossible to find them. Wait here, they'll be back before terribly long-"

"And what if he dies before he makes it back, Nadir?" She demanded, and the man frowned.

"I'm not sure what to tell you. I simply don't know how to find him, and I don't recommend you going out to try and find him on your own. Just wait. Pray," he told her, moving to squeeze her shoulder comfortingly. "I'll wait here with you until he comes," the Daroga promised.

The girl resigned, but stood from the bed to pace around the room impatiently. All day she checked out the windows for any sign of a caravan entering the area. She stood on the walls in the garden, looking out as far as she could for horses, camels, anything that might indicate her husband was coming home. As the sun set, she retired to nurse a cup of hot water with lemon to ease her nerves. Just as she finished her first mug, an urgent sounding knock came at the door.

The Daroga opened the door, and Shoshana immediately leapt to her feet. Two able bodied men carried Erik in on a stretcher made of leather and wood, transferring him carefully to the bed. "He's sleeping now, but he's been vomiting blood. He's growing very weak," One of the men told the Daroga, and Shoshana moved to her husband's side. When the men from the caravan left, Shoshana removed her husband's mask to wipe at his face with a cool cloth. Nadir found himself saying a quick prayer at the sight of the man's face, and was sure Shoshana must have a far better person than he for touching such a face so tenderly.

"Would you leave us please, Daroga? I wish to be alone with my husband," she asked quietly, glancing back at him briefly.

"Of course. If his condition changes at any hour, please let me know," Shoshana agreed, and Nadir left the apartment quietly.

When they were alone, Shoshana moved into bed to hold her husband, continuing to wipe his head with a cool cloth. "You have to be okay, Erik. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do without you… I used to think life would be okay if something happened to you. I'd be a widow, I could live as a recluse here and never be bothered again. But I don't want that, Erik. I want to be with you. I want to grow old and gray with you, not alone. I meant it that day, when I accidently said I love you. I honestly don't know how it happened or why, but somewhere along the way I fell in love. I feel so incredibly foolish for falling in love with a man like you, but I can't help it. But Erik God has a plan for everything, I'm sure of it. He brought you to me, for my good or for yours I couldn't say. Maybe for the good of both of us. I know He wouldn't take you from me so soon."

Erik didn't move the entire night, and neither did his wife. She stayed awake with him, head on his chest as it rose and fell quietly. His heartbeat kept her hopes up; for all his lack of response, his heart still beat strong in his chest. Shoshana was still awake, listening to the steady beat of his heart when Erik finally moved. He had been sleeping like the dead when suddenly he shot up so quickly Shoshana nearly jumped out of her skin. Moving rapidly to the bathroom, Erik immediately doubled over the bath and vomited a mixture of red and clots of brown. Drenched in a cold sweat, he wiped his forehead and slumped against the side of the bath miserably.

Shoshana move gingerly to his side, taking a dry cloth to wipe his face. Erik looked around, momentarily disoriented; when he had fallen asleep, he had still been in the high desert. "Shoshana, you're here…"

"Of course I am, Erik," she told him, kissing his shoulder. "Tell me how I can help you."

"Where is my mask?"

"I have it, don't worry. You were sweating so I took it off," Erik cringed, but Shoshana hushed him gently. "Get well first, then you can have it. I promise."

Shoshana sat up with her husband, tending to him through his illness. Erik drank nothing but water, and didn't dare eat though he was gradually growing weaker than ever. Still he vomited, though about forty eight hours after his illness had begun, Erik began to see signs of hope. Less red and more brown in his vomit meant the blood was clotting… this meant the worst was nearly over, and he was still alive and breathing.

Within another two hours, Erik was able to keep down water and bits of unleavened bread Shoshana offered him. He leaned back on his hands and closed his eyes. "I'll be okay," Shoshana smiled gently, and climbed into his lap. He moved off his hands to hold her as tightly as he could after losing so much blood, breathing in her smell.

"… You've been using cinnamon and almond oil on your skin, haven't you?" Erik accused, and Shoshana flushed.

"Yes. I loved the smell. And I started dancing again a little, it helps my feet," she smiled shyly. "Plus it reminded me of you."

Erik gestured for her to stand, and rose after she did. He made his way to the bed, laying down there to rest but gladly gathering his wife into his arms. "Did Nadir give you my message?"

"He did. I'm not angry, not if you couldn't have known."

"I couldn't have. I was in the market when I received a summons to Tehran," Shoshana held her husband tight.

"What happened?" She asked cautiously, not quite sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

Closing his eyes, Erik took a breath before answering. "I had requested a meeting with their Sultan some time ago. He finally granted the offer, and I went under pretense of wishing to offer my services as a political assassin. But the Sultan was on to me, it was a trap. I finally got the job done, but I suppose he had the last laugh. His son will inherit the title; the boy is only sixteen, I doubt if we will see any trouble from him."

Shoshana nodded. "No, I think not. I'm glad you're okay."

"Was I dreaming or did you- nevermind," Erik changed his mind, but Shoshana pressed him forward with a bit of a nudge.

"Did I what?"

"Did you say that you loved me?" He ventured quietly, and Shoshana buried her face in his neck some.

"...Yes, I did. And I meant it," she told him somewhat shyly. It had been a lot easier to say when he had been unconscious than when he was awake.

Erik's brow furrowed at this news, and he was unsure of how to respond. "I don't expect you to love me back," she added at his quiet. "I just… felt like if you knew you might get better. And you did, so I suppose that was something," he nodded, reassured by this.

As romantic as his mind could be, Erik knew he had no knowledge of love … he knew he cared for Shoshana more than he had ever cared for anyone in his life. He knew his heart had ached when he thought she had been unfaithful, and it ached even more. But he was not ready to call that love, not when there was so much on the line.


	18. Chapter 18

It was a slow recovery. Erik hadn't been aware he had put on any weight at all until he started dropping it again after his illness. Shoshana had succeeded bringing Erik's weight up to a nearly healthy level without him really even noticing, a remarkable feat. She was sure she would be able to do it again, but in the mean time she fussed when he became a light eater again, careful not to irritate his still raw stomach. His energy began to return slowly. At Shoshana's insistence he put construction on the Sultan's palace on hiatus, and remained in their apartments for most of the day. Soon he had enough energy for his morning walks with his wife, and even accompanied her to the market some days simply to get out of the apartments.

Erik spent a lot of time at the piano, composing new works and playing the works of long dead composers he had grown up studying. One morning Erik was singing while he played Figaro's lament on the unfaithfulness of women. Shoshana sat at his feet, stitching one of her favorite dresses she had managed to tear when he began to sing.

"Aprite un po'quegli occhi,

Uomini incauti e sciocchi,

Guardate queste femmine,

Guardate cosa son!

Queste chiamate dee

Dagli ingannati sensi,

A cui tributa incensi

La debole ragion."

Shoshana grinned some at the sound of this strange language, and she couldn't help but interrupt him. "Is that your native tongue?" She pried, moving up to sit next to him on the bench.

Erik chuckled with a smile, continuing to play the melody. "No, that was Italian. My native tongue is French."

Her eyes widened. "You know French, Farsi, Hebrew, and Italian?"

"And German, and Latin, and Romani, and Spanish, and English, and Russian, and several different dialects of India…"

"You lie!" She exclaimed, more of a challenge than an accusation. "You're not any older than I am, how can you know all that?"

"I have a talent for languages. I learned most of the European ones I mentioned when I was learning music as a boy. Most of the religious texts are in Latin, a good many Operas are in Italian. I learned Romani with the Gypsies, as well as German, English, Spanish, Hebrew, and Farsi. I picked up Russian in Russia, and Hindi among other things in India," he explained, amused. "I can prove it to you if you'd like."

"I demand it, actually," she told him, eyes alight and a smile playing on her lips though she was trying to look serious.

Erik stopped playing with a smile, and began to speak, ticking off the languages on his fingers as he spoke them.

"Je t'aime. Ich liebe dich. Mãĩ tumse pyār kartā hū̃. Ti amo. Te amo. That one is both Spanish and Latin actually." He added in Hebrew before continuing. "Te iubesc. Ya tebya lyublyu. I love you. Ani ohev otach," The last phrase was one she would surely recognize; I love you, as a man tells his wife in Hebrew. Her eyes widened and a private smile played on her lips.

"I'm thoroughly impressed," She told him, and Erik bowed his head.

"Thank you. It's second nature."

"…Do you mean any of it?" She ventured.

"I've been thinking a lot about it… and I'm not certain I will ever know for certain of what love is. If men like Plato and Socrates could never come to a firm conclusion, it would be arrogant of me to think I could."

"When did modesty become one of your virtues?" She accused gently, and Erik smiled.

"I suppose it isn't. But they are philosophers I respect immensely and I have a tendency to believe there simply is no answer to the question of what love is. I do think that you have immensely improved the quality of my life. I know I would mourn for you if you died, and I'm certain there is a place for you in my heart that will never be replaced. When I was away I wanted nothing more than to return to your side, especially while I was ill. If these things define love, then I am certainly in love with you Shoshana."

Shoshana grinned from ear to ear, and wrapped her arms around her husband tightly. "I don't know about Plato or Socrates, but those are the way I define love. I was so worried when you left. When I started picturing what life would be like if you never came home… and I hated it. I wasn't okay being a Persian widow anymore. That was when I knew."

Erik held her in turn. "There's a good chance my life here will come to a very abrupt end. I'm willing to take you with me when I leave, if you are willing to come. But I feel like I need to warn you, my life has never been this pretty, or this easy. I've struggled here more than I've told you, but even my struggles here are nothing in comparison to living off the land, performing and stealing for a living… This place has been paradise in comparison."

"Life is never easy, Erik. I've been a nomad for most of mine as well, granted it was with my family and never alone. But with you I won't ever be alone either," she smiled, and Erik nodded.

"No, that much is true," Erik admitted. Unless one of them died unexpectedly, it was safe to say neither would ever be alone. Shoshana kissed her husband tenderly and he cupped her face gently in his hands to kiss her back

Quickly their kisses deepened, though each was as tender as the last. Without a word Erik moved Shoshana's arms around his neck and lifted her as if she weighed nothing. Shoshana never let their lips part as he was carried to the bed and placed gingerly down as if she might shatter on the soft mattress. She hummed softly against his mouth, suddenly quite aware of how warm the room felt. It amazed her how his touch could make her body respond in such a way. She was sure no other man in the world could coax her body to arch into his so shamelessly and completely unbidden. The way his lips moved against hers was second nature by now, so comfortable but still so thrilling. They had only gone to bed together twice in nearly a year of knowing one another, but she knew she wouldn't object to being touched like this more often by the man she adored so completely.

Midway through their lovemaking, there was a knock at the door. Shoshana gripped her husband's back, afraid his sense of duty would outweigh his desire for her. Erik hushed her gently and kissed her deeply. "Whatever it is it can wait," He promised her, watching her face as a wave of pleasure swept over her at the purr of his voice combined with his touch. But the knocking continued, matched with the voice of the Daroga this time.

"Erik, I know you're home. The Sultana is demanding to see you immediately."

Erik groaned, and not with pleasure as he buried his face in his wife's neck out of frustration. "Now is not a good time, Nadir."

"She pulled me from my son's grave to come and fetch you Erik, I'm not leaving without you."

"Moan," Erik commanded form Shoshana suddenly, which was met with a confused, frustrated but pleasured look as her husband continued making love to her as if there was nobody demanding his presence at the door.

"What?"

Erik quickened the pace of their lovemaking, causing Shoshana to buck up, nails digging into Erik's back as she gasped and moaned involuntarily at the agonizing pleasure. Erik couldn't help but groan in response, and outside the door Nadir cleared his throat loudly.

"I'll come back another time then."

"Smart man," Erik answered, kissing his wife's long neck and returning to the more intimate pace at which they had started. The Sultana could wait.


	19. Chapter 19

Erik arrived in the Sultana's chambers considerably later than when he had been summoned, but did not seem to mind. The Sultana on the other hand was quite irritated with his tardiness. "Where have you been? I sent the Daroga for you nearly an hour ago."

"He arrived at an inopportune time, so I sent him away. How can I be of service?"

"An 'inopportune time'? I wasn't aware my day ran on your schedule," sneered the Sultana, sitting up on her divan.

"It does when I am pleasuring my wife, Your Highness," Erik told her boldly, and the ladies of the harem all covered their mouths to hide their giggles. The Sultana was not as amused.

"My schedule is always your schedule, Servant. Your wife can wait," the Sultana strode up to the man, hips swaying as she was prone to do. Erik couldn't help but notice how much less Shoshana tried to be appealing, but how much more successful she was. Her sweet, unintentional sexiness was so much more appealing than the Sultana could ever be with all her trying. "I need a new way to dispose of criminals, since my husband has stolen you from me," The woman played a finger across the seam of Erik's pants, speaking in a bit of a purr.

Erik didn't bother attempting to tease her back. He was plenty satisfied with his sex life and had no need for rumors he had been seducing the Sultana to get back to his wife or to the Sultan. "It was my understanding criminals have been disposed of here for centuries before I ever arrived." he pointed out sarcastically.

"Yes… but I desire something more entertaining. Something I can enjoy, since I cannot enjoy you," suddenly her hand slipped into his pants, and Erik could have strangled her right then for her violation but restrained himself; If he killed the woman there was a chance he wouldn't even make it back to Shoshana before being overtaken by guards.

"I suppose I could come up with something more entertaining than a traditional beheading."

"Good," she told him with a smirk and a final grope before removing her hand. "I expect a design first thing tomorrow. And I do mean first thing," the Sultana turned her back to the man and lifted her hand to dismiss him. Erik stalked out of the room back to his apartments.

Slamming the door behind him, Erik was seething. Shoshana looked up from her stitching with a deep frown. "Erik, what's wrong?"

"That woman is perverse."

"…What happened?"

"She touched me. Oh how I wish I could have strangled her…" The rest of his insults were in a language she couldn't understand; Erik had switched to French to avoid offending her feminine sensibilities with talk of pickling the Sultana's clitoris and feeding it to her.

"She touched you?"

"Yes. I _will_ be the death of that woman, you mark my words…"

Shoshana held herself some, not sure of how to react. She couldn't remember ever feeling jealous in her entire life, not like this. Erik caught her look and sat beside her on the floor to gather his wife into his arms. "She will regret it, I swear it. You are the only person I ever want touching me like that. And even that kind of touching is… questionable," he confided, kissing her cheek. Shoshana raised a brow and Erik took a breath.

"I… have been abused like that before. But not by a Sultana," his wife's eyes widened, horrified. "Do you remember when you asked why I left the Gypsies? I didn't like it there, but it was livable. But there was a man, the one who ran the side show. He wasn't even a Gypsy, just a sick man looking to earn a living. He... attacked me one night. I stabbed him before he could get his pants around his knees. That was my first murder, and why I left the Gypsies. I couldn't have possibly stayed," he explained quietly, and Shoshana merely stared, utterly disgusted but certainly not at her husband. None of Erik's murders, no crime he had ever committed could possibly be as horrible as what this man had attempted to do to her husband.

"Erik… Erik that wasn't murder, it was self defense. I've never heard of something so disgusting in my entire life. Rapists are… horrible, horrible people by their nature, but someone who would try and rape a little boy-" She trailed off and stroked her husband's cheek. "I'm so sorry, Erik."

"It certainly wasn't your fault," he promised, kissing the top of her head. "If anything it's the Sultana, opening old wounds… But there is some good news. She wants me to build her something to execute criminals for her."

Shoshana wrinkled her nose. "How is that good news?"

"It means I won't have to anymore, even after the Palace is done. Not if I make it entertaining enough for her," Shoshana nodded in understanding. So long as he husband wasn't the one with the blood on his hands. Erik stood and moved to his desk. "I have to have the design done by sun up, so I won't be eating tonight."

The young woman shook her head. "No. I don't care how busy you are, you're not missing a meal on my watch," she moved to start cooking, making sure to make extra of the sweet sticky buns he enjoyed. It had been an interesting day for them both, with the pleasurable exertion of making love and the stress of the Sultana and learning of Erik's past with the Gypsies… He was as thin as ever, and today was certainly not a day he should be skipping any meals. Hopefully the little bit of sugar would even lift his spirits some.

Erik retired to the study to draw, and Shoshana brought his meal to him. If there was one thing that was always consistent about Erik, it was his passion for his work. He didn't even seem to notice when she brought him a plate of food and kissed his cheek. She was met with nothing more than a quiet hum of thanks as the bulk of his focus was in the charcoal and the parchment. Blank sheets of parchment rapidly filled with designs, until finally in the early hours of the morning well before the sun was due to rise, Erik was satisfied with his work. The idea was as sick and twisted as anything he had ever created… but it was perfection. An octagon shaped room, each wall made of a tall, flawless mirror. In the center of the room, a brass tree would stand, creating the illusion of a forest. Various types of his magical gimmicks would be used to drive the resident of the room insane. Night and day could be controlled, sounds of lions, thunder, and bees could be manufactured. Total isolation combined with carefully controlled stimuli would drive any man to suicide… and so a noose would be hung from a branch on the brass tree. No murders would be committed, only induced suicides. The idea was so simple, but so brilliant Erik couldn't help but be proud in spite of its dark nature.

At dawn Erik moved to kiss his wife's cheek as she slept soundly, looking lonely in their large bed. He would join her as soon as his meeting with the Sultana was complete, he thought. Maybe he would even make love to her when she woke. What a wonderful way to start the day, tangled up in Shoshana's soft embrace. Quietly he left for the Sultana's chambers, and was shown in immediately.

The woman was thrilled with his design, making no changes whatsoever. It was simply perfection. Sick and twisted in the most entertaining way… she wished she would have commissioned something like this from him sooner. Erik was sent on his way with orders to start making purchases for the mirrored room and to hire a crew to build it in his absence. He hadn't been out of his apartments more than fifteen minutes… but when he returned something was very, very wrong.

The door was slightly ajar, something Erik was careful never to do. Perhaps Shoshana had waken and gone to the kitchen, but it would be unlike her to leave the door open with the room empty. With a hand on the Punjab lasso he kept nearly always on his person, Erik slipped inside the room and his heart sank. There were obvious signs of a struggle, with chairs overturned and papers strewn across the room. There was blood on the sheets, and the bed was gut wrenchingly empty. On one of the wooden posts of the bed, a small dagger pinned a piece of parchment up at eye level for the owner of the room to find.

"To the demon who killed my brother;

If you care at all for the safety of your wife, I would be happy to trade your life for hers. I look forward to seeing you in my court.

-King Amir Rashid"

Before the hour was out, Erik had found a horse and was on his way to Tehran without even word to Nadir as to his whereabouts. In Persia wives were merely property to most men; someone had told Rashid not only who had killed his father, but how he could best be manipulated. And what was more… this was not the son all of Mazenderan had expected to take the thrown in Tehran. Amir Rashid was the notoriously vicious younger brother of the former ruler, not the moderate teenaged son of the deceased Sultan who should have been next in line for the thrown. Something, somewhere had gone wrong with the Sultan's plan.

The worst was only just beginning.


	20. Chapter 20

Erik rode through the hottest part of the day without slowing, much to the annoyance of his horse. It was the coolest part of the year, however, so the beast was fortunately able to survive the journey at such a harsh pace. The animal was drenched in sweat by the time Erik rode into the palace of Tehran in the middle of the night, stopped immediately by armed guards at the gates.

"What business do you have here, Stranger?" One demanded, holding a blade to Erik's neck. Erik flicked the steel away as if it were nothing.

"Your 'king' has my wife," the guard's eyes widened and the man grinned.

"So you're the devil who killed our king. Come down and empty your pockets," Erik obeyed, dismounting the horse and clearing everything from his person. He wanted to play no tricks, nothing that might put Shoshana in harm's way; he trusted his ability to escape death, but he knew Shoshana wouldn't stand a chance in this world without his help. Once the guards were satisfied Erik was completely unarmed, the bound his hands behind his back and guided him inside the palace.

Even in the dark Erik could see this palace was not as well kept as the one in Mazenderan. A king more concerned with power and war had been its keeper rather than one with an appreciation for beauty like the Sultan in Mazenderan. "The Sultan was not expecting you so soon. He may not be ready to see you," the guards took him to the Sultan's chambers anyway, and knocked gently. There was an immediate snap from inside the room.

"What is it?"

The guard Erik assumed must have been their Daroga to be so bold spoke. "You asked to be informed when the murder had arrived, Your Grace."

There was a rustle from inside the room, and within moments the door was opened. A well built, bearded man in his thirties opened the door, dressed in nothing more than his robe. His lack of nightclothes instantly made Erik's heart sink. "Well well. Nearly a day earlier than I expected. My informant was right, you must truly be attached to the girl. Well in that case you're just in time. Bring him in and bind him to the chair by the bed. Make sure his binds are tight," he added, and the masked man was dragged into the room. At the sight of his wife, naked, bound and gagged in the grand bed in the center of the room, Erik began to thrash violently. Within moments more guards rushed into the room to contain him.

"You bastard, if I came no harm was going to come to her!" He seethed before he was gagged with a strip of leather and forced into a chair of solid wood. He could no longer stand even if he tried, and when a leather strap was tied around his neck attaching him to the chair, even struggling became nigh impossible.

"It could have been quite pleasurable for her, actually. Any of my wives will tell you I'm a very generous lover… But she bit me the first time, and from then on I was forced to take precautions. I have to admit, I didn't expect a Jew to be so lovely, or so feisty. But don't worry, I'll break her yet. She simply needs to be treated like any other unruly animal. And now you will have the pleasure of watching," the man grinned, seeing the anguish that washed over the man.

Shoshana resumed her sobbing, muffled by her cloth gag. Instantly the Sultan turned vicious. He struck her across her face with the back of his hand. "Silence! I am sick to death of your crying," he snapped violently, and Erik did his best to free himself to murder the man to no avail. Bound tight at every angle, he could find no way to tweak his body to escape. When the Sultan was satisfied that he was bound, he dismissed the guards and locked the door shut behind them.

The wicked man pulled Shoshana's binds tight, and Shoshana gave Erik a heartbreaking look. It had been bad enough to endure this man's tortures for most of the day, but for her husband to be there… she wanted to die. She simply wanted to close her eyes and cease to live. Death had to be more merciful than what the rest of the night would hold.

Rashid raped Shoshana until she bled. He groaned with pleasure at the girl's pain as much as at the tautness of her body. Eventually she stopped crying, and could do little more than stare numbly at the wall. She couldn't bear to look at Erik; hearing his anguish was heart wrenching enough, looking at him would surely drive her mad. There was nothing Shoshana wanted more than for him to whisk her away from this place, back to their little apartment in Mazenderan… but he simply couldn't. When the man had finally exhausted himself with her, the room was eerily silent. Both husband and wife were too shattered to make a sound, much to the Sultan's delight. Shoshana didn't even flinch when the man dragged his knife between her breasts, down to her navel. The wound wasn't deep enough to kill, but would undoubtedly leave a memorable scar. Kissing the girl sultrily, he patted her cheek. "A little something to remember me by," he sneered, finally untying her and removing her gag.

The young woman was too weak to move, whole body too numb to even stand. The Sultan of Tehran had to pull her from bed, calling in servants to dress her limp form.

"Return the girl to Mazenderan. I am a man of my word; I have what I want, she will be allowed to live," the man told Erik, who's eyes shone murderously. The masked man bit down hard when the Sultan removed his gag, and immediately a dagger was drawn against Erik's throat. Even the throat of a blade was not enough to stop Erik from his verbal rampage.

"You son of a bitch, you've as good as killed her! Go on and kill me, I have nothing left to live for without her. Better yet, let me go and fight me like a man, you coward. Why rape a Jew; would none of your wives have you?" Erik sneered, knowing the Sultan's xenophobia would respond to this jab. "I can't blame them. Raping a woman to harm her husband, that is hardly warfare."

"You want a fight, you devil? Tall talk from the man who slit my brother's throat in his sleep! All right then, we will fight," This would be a move the Sultan would regret nearly instantly. Erik was careful not to move until all of his bonds were freed… but as soon as they were, the masked assassin fell upon the man like the Angel of Death. When he hands had been untied, Erik had slipped the dagger from its sheath at the man's hope completely unnoticed, grateful for his expertise at pick pocketing. In one swift motion he ran the man through, stabbing the man swear in the gut and twisting the blade ferociously. Erik's training as an assassin had taught him this was the moist painful way to kill a man; the wound could never heal, and the death that would ensue would be slow and agonizing. As the man reeled, Erik stabbed him again in the stomach, grinning wickedly.

"It isn't pleasant to be the victim of a merciless tyrant is?" Erik sneered as the man fell back against the bed, clutching his stomach. With a single slice, Erik stripped the man from the waist down. Slowly and deliberately Erik castrated the man who wailed with pain. "How does it feel to be mercilessly humiliated?" Dropping the Sultan's manhood to the floor, Erik crushed it under the heel of his boot. Next he removed the man's tongue to quiet his screams, and gouged out the man's eyes. Rashim didn't lose consciousness until Erik removed the man's nose, leaving nothing but a gaping, bloody mess of his face and genitals when finally he left the man bleeding and dying upon the bed.

Erik rode so quickly he surpassed the group of men carrying his beloved back to Mazenderan. From his horse he strangled each and every man ruthlessly, save for the one carrying a limp Shoshana on his horse. That man he unhorsed with a swift kick, pulling himself on after the man fell to keep Shoshana steady. The man's head was quickly crushed under the hoof of his own horse as Erik galloped off to their home. By mid day they arrived back in the court, with Nadir waiting for them at the gate.

"Where have you been, Erik? The whole Court is out looking for you, I found the damage in your room- Is that Shoshana? What happened?"

"The Sultan of Tehran took her," he explained as he dismounted, and Nadir helped him to pull Shoshana from the horse. "He raped her, Nadir. Three times that I saw, who knows how many before I even arrived," the Daroga looked mortified as Erik scooped up his wife. Quickly the man moved to open the door for his friend, ushering him inside out of the sun.

"This is an act worthy of war, Erik. Say the word and the Sultan will have his troops ready. I will gladly go with you to the front, no man will get away with such a crime while I live."

The masked man shook his head. "There's no need, but I deeply appreciate your loyalty Nadir. The man is dead, and his successor is mild mannered."

"That's what we thought about-"

Erik interrupted his friend. "It wasn't the boy, Nadir. The Sultan had a brother who was next in line to the throne. The boy will be in place now, certainly. Go and get me boiling water. He cut her chest and she's been sweating into the wound," the Daroga ran off to do as he was bidden, and Erik laid his wife gently down onto the bed. His heart broke when all she could do was stare at the ceiling.

"Shoshana, please look at me… It's all over. Nobody is ever going to touch you like that again, not as long as I live," tears were streaming down his face now under the mask as he kissed her gently, desperate for her to make some sort of response. "I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you, Shoshana. I'm so so sorry…"

Nadir returned, and diverted his eyes when Erik gingerly removed Shoshana's dress. The young woman flinched, the first sign she had given that she was even conscious. Erik couldn't help but sob. "I'm so sorry my darling, my angel…" Gently Erik seeped a mixture of herbs in the boiling water, using a mortar and pestle to make a paste and slathering it over the shallow wound. Nothing would prevent scaring now, but he would do his damndest to make the scar as small as possible and to stave off any infection. Gingerly he moved to wash between her legs with the hot water the herbs had been brewed in, hoping to kill anything the man may have left behind that the water could reach. Without so much as sob or a shuttered breath, tears began to stream down Shoshana's cheeks. He dressed his wife in clean clothes, and she curled up in the bed to stare at the far wall.

Erik removed his mask, and rubbed his face with a deep breath, trying to dry his tears. "Nadir… Thank you for your help. You can leave us now."

The man moved to squeeze his friend's shoulder. "If you need anything, Erik, don't hesitate to ask. The whole court will be here to support you in a matter like this, and I will be the first among them," he promised, and Erik nodded. Quietly Nadir left, and went to inform the Sultan of what had happened.

Crawling into bed, Erik moved to hold his shell of a wife as she held her arms tight against her breast, knees pulled against her stomach. Ever so quietly, he begged. "Shoshana, I know you're not ready yet… but please my love, when you can… please let me in. You saved me just by being present, by caring. Please, please let me do the same for you."


	21. Chapter 21

Thirteen weeks after Shoshana's rape, her condition hadn't improved much if at all. There was no fire in her eyes anymore. She slept for hours a day, and when she wasn't sleeping she was lethargic and completely apathetic to the world around her. It didn't matter to her whether the sun rose in the morning or set at night, it didn't matter who or what came out of their little apartment. Erik never left her side except when absolutely necessary to bring food into the apartment. He began bathing her when she rubbed herself raw after her first bath. He read to her, sang to her, anything to try and pull her focus to the world around them but to no avail. Shoshana was consumed in her own world, a private place filled with God only knew what miseries and shame.

Erik had managed to put the build on hiatus for three months, but his time was up. Erik paced around the room some, frustrated at his hollow shell of a wife and of the news he had to break. He feared he already knew how the conversation would go.

"Shoshana, my angel. Do you remember when I told you I was able to put the build on pause? I can't anymore. I have to leave tomorrow to oversee the construction," Shoshana simply stared at the ceiling, making no move to indicate she had heard him at all. "Shoshana, do you understand me? Have to leave tomorrow."

"I understand," she said quietly.

"I want you to come with me."

"I'm too tired-"

Erik sat on the bedside and cupped her face in his hand. "I know you're tired, Shoshana, but you don't understand what I'm telling you. When I leave it will be a long, long time before I can come back. The build will take two years. I don't want to be away from you for that long, and I know you don't really want to be away from me that long either. I'll pack your things for you, all you have to do is come."

"I'll be fine here."

The masked man took a shaky breath. "Shoshana… I love you. I do, more than anything in the world. But you are not only destroying yourself you are destroying me, destroying us. I can't even imagine what it is you went through and are still putting yourself through. God knows I'm the last person to stop dwelling on my pain and misery, but this has to stop Shoshana. It has to. You have to let me in or you're going to drive both of us mad or worse. I know you're in pain, but if you let me share it with you-"

For the first time in weeks, Shoshana reacted. It was not a pretty sight when the young woman sat bolt upright and snarled. "Share it with me? Erik nobody can ever, ever share this with me! And I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy, least of all you. You just… you have no idea, Erik. You can't possibly have any idea."

"I can't have any idea? Shoshana I told you about that horrible man with the Gypsies. I watched what Rashim did to you and my heart ached for every second of it. It aches now."

"You escaped, Erik. That is why you can never understand! You escaped. I fought him Erik, as hard as I could. I kicked him and he bound my legs, I scratched him and he bound my hands. I screamed and I screamed, and then when he kissed me to silence me I bit his tongue so hard I tasted blood. So he gagged me. I was completely and utterly powerless against him," tears were streaming down her face now. "I fought and I fought and there was _nothing_ I could do. He was just too big, so much stronger than I was. I prayed that you would come for me, that you would save me and take me away- and you came! You came to save me, but they bound you too and my soul was crushed. God had answered my prayers… but in the most horrible, wretched way I could ever have imagined. Everything that was supposed to be good and right in the world, everything I placed my hopes and dreams in was bound and forced to watch-" she trailed off and choked on her tears.

Erik gathered Shoshana in his arms and she clung to him desperately, crying hard into his neck. Erik cried with her and rocked her gently. "The one thing I have always had, even here in Persia was my faith. And now… now everything I once believed about God having a plan, about His loyalty to the People. I've expected challenges in life, but not this. Never this," she sobbed. "Erik I was so afraid."

Kissing at her tears Erik held her so tight she might have been drawn into him. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you. It had been years since I felt so powerless and weak, having to watch that happen to you. He's dead now, Shoshana. He died slowly and painfully, I swear it. I can only hope he died hearing the horrified screams of his brides at the sight of him. I gouged his eyes so he couldn't be comforted by their beauty, I carved out his nose so he couldn't find comfort in their smell. His tongue I removed so he could never taste them, and I castrated him so he would die in as much pain and with as much shame as he put you through."

Shoshana nodded, and wiped fiercely at her eyes. "Good," she seethed, and Erik kissed the top of her head. She hated that Erik had blood on his hands… but she was glad he had been the one to kill the man. She knew nobody could have done it better.

"Please, Shoshana… Come with me. There's a tent already set up at the build site, I had it prepared for two people."

Wiping at her eyes, the young woman drew a breath. "I… okay. If you want me to come I'll come."

"My love, of course I want you to come. Don't you want to come?"

"I do, Erik. I'm just afraid. It's safe here, but out there-"

Erik kissed her to quiet her, gently. "I know I couldn't help you then, Shoshana. But I swear, those men would never have taken you at all if I were here, and no one will ever take you while you're with me. I'd sooner die than let any harm come to you," he promised. "If you take off your top and lie down on your stomach, I can rub in some oil," knowing exactly what he intended gave her the strength to obey. Quietly Erik infused a generous amount of almond oil with cinnamon, and massaged it firmly into her back. Her entire body was more tense than he had ever felt it, a realization which saddened him greatly. Under his breath he sang his love for her in French as he rubbed in the oil.

Soon her muscles loosened under her flesh, and Shoshana sighed some in relief. "You have such a beautiful voice, Erik. What does it mean?"

"I could teach you French, if you like. Then you could tell me what it means," he smiled some when the offer was met with a twitch of her lips.

"Could you? I'd like that. It isn't too difficult?"

"Not at all, my love. And we have all the time in the world to practice."

Shoshana nodded gently. "All right, then. We leave tomorrow?"

"We do."

Shoshana nodded gently. "I'll pack my things."


	22. Chapter 22

Erik was immensely pleased with the progress of the palace when he arrived with his wife two days later. The foundations were solid and flat, and work on the walls had already begun. Erik helped his wife down from her horse, and walked to inspect the progress with her hand in his. Shoshana was a little amused by the way his whole body seemed to change the moment they walked onto the foundation. He was affectionate, almost sensual as he felt the stone under his boots and tested the sturdiness of the walls.

"I can't picture it," she told him quietly, and Erik eagerly explained it to her.

"It really will be perfect. One hundred and twenty passages and trap doors. Look, there's one over here," he told her, moving over a small, square hole in the foundation. "It won't work until the mechanisms are all in place and the palace is complete, but I built it to be a safe haven. Only the Sultan and I will know where all the passages are. I'm even partitioning out the workers so none of them knows every location," Shoshana's eyes widened, clearly impressed.

"Why would there ever be a need for so many?"

"If one is compromised, it must have a fallback. Theoretically, an infinite number would be ideal but of course that is impossible," he explained. "Four levels in total, and the gardens will be in the center of the complex rather than on the outsides. I'm also going to put a safety in our room, but it will be nearly a year before I can show you that. So I suppose it will be one hundred and twenty one passages, with one the Sultan doesn't know about."

Shoshana nodded. "Do you mind if we go in? I'm exhausted."

"Of course, my love," she hadn't been eating well and the journey was long, Erik had no doubt she was tired. He walked her out of the foundations of the building, and led her to a group of tents on the outside of the work site. On the far end of the camp was a tent larger than the others. Erik held open the tent for her to slip inside before following her in. The tent was adorned with a bed as large as the one in their apartment and just as lavish looking, with solid chairs and clothes chests.

"Erik, this is beautiful. When I heard we were going to live in a tent I didn't think anything like this," she held his arm and kissed his cheek.

"Will it be livable for a few years?"

"Oh, absolutely. It's as nice as our apartment, I think. Not as big, but there's only two of us," a trace of a smile played on Shoshana's lips, causing Erik to smile in turn. He kissed her, and for the first time in weeks she returned it. Letting go of his hand, she moved to collapse into bed with a pleasant hum at its softness. Erik chuckled and move to lay down next to her as she buried herself in the pillows comfortably.

"Comfortable?"

"Mmmhm." Shoshana purred into the pillows before turning over and smiling over at him. "What am I going to do all day while you're working on the palace, hm?"

Gently Erik pulled his wife against him, and to his surprise she curled into his form with her back against his chest and pulled his arm around her comfortably. "I'm not sure. The same you did when I was performing I would imagine. Study your French lessons. Until the masonry gets above head level you can visit me on the site as often as you'd like. After that it will be too dangerous though."

Shoshana nodded. "Well the men be okay with me being here? I mean I'm the only woman I've seen…"

"Of course they will be, their wives will be coming and going too. Even if none of them love their wives as much as I love mine, I certainly can't expect them to go two years without sex," he teased, and she blushed causing Erik to laugh move over her to peck her chastely.

"No, I suppose I couldn't expect them to either," she admitted, pulling her husband's arm tighter around her and staying comfortably quiet for a long while. "Erik?"

"Yes my love?"

Taking a deep breath, Shoshana continued. "There's something I didn't tell you. It happened about ten weeks ago," she hesitated, and Erik nuzzled the back of her neck to urge her to continue. "…I hadn't gotten my period on time. I got it a week later," she added quickly when she felt Erik tense behind her. "But for a week… for a week I was so afraid I was pregnant"

"Why are you telling me this now?" He asked, tentatively but curious.

"Because I love you," Shoshana turned in his arms to look at him. "And I feel like it's something I should have told you then. Especially considering there was a chance… even if it was just a small one that it could have been yours. We did make love just that day before," she offered tentatively.

Erik immediately got what she was getting at. "Shoshana, not this again."

"What's so wrong with having a child? Can't we at least conclude that whatever happens happens? I don't want to have to panic about whether or not to tell if something does happen. I was terrified to tell you, mostly because I knew there was a chance it was yours. I have no idea how you would have reacted."

The masked man shook his head. "You don't understand."

"You're right, Erik, I don't. It seems foolish to me. You said your mother and father were beautiful. Your face was probably just a fluke."

"It's not just about my face, Shoshana. It's about my lifestyle, the fact that some day our life here is going to come to an abrupt end. It will be rough going having you along, but it will be nearly impossible with a child. They need stability," Erik pointed out.

"I was on the move for most of my childhood, and I came out just fine. It's not impossible."

"I was on the move for most of mine as well, and I'd say I could use some improvement."

Shoshana kissed her husband gently. "I disagree, my love. Nobody's perfect, but you are a wonderful, wonderful man. And you will be an incredible father someday. Please, I don't want to plan a child right now. But I'd feel better knowing I don't have to tip toe around you if something does happen."

Erik removed his mask to massage his face. "Okay. If something happens, we'll take it in stride." Shoshana smiled and kissed her husband.

"Thank you, Erik. I know it's not on the top of your list of priorities, but it does put my mind at ease," She promised him, and Erik nodded.

"That's all that matters," he told her, though his mind was not at ease. For some reason permitting the thought at all made a pregnancy seem more likely.

Shoshana could sense something was wrong and she moved against him again, pulling his arm over her. "Everything's going to be okay. I promise. You know what I miss?" Erik hummed and she continued. "I miss times like this. I miss being close to you. I'm sorry I was so distant. There was just… no other way for me to react."

Quietly Erik kissed the top of her head. "You don't have to apologize. You're getting better, and I'm glad," he promised. "I missed this too though. I love you, I was worried we'd never be able to be like this again," Shoshana nodded her understanding.

"Me too. This is the first time in a long time I've wanted to be close to anyone at all. Even you," She admitted quietly, and Erik kissed the top of her head.

"I'm glad that's changed."

Shoshana turned in his arms again, and kissed him gently on the lips. Erik returned the gesture and his heart leapt when she deepened it some. He stroked her cheek, and her hand moved to slip out of her dress, somewhat self conscious of the scar running between her breasts. Noticing her unease, Erik moved to gently kiss the pink mark from beginning to end in a promise that he loved it as much as he loved every other part of her. Tears stained her cheeks as he did this, and she pulled his head back up to meet her lips for a deep kiss. It was so good to be touched with kindness again.

Erik was more careful making love to her now than he had even been their first night together. He was terrified he would touch her in a way that would hurt her or cause unwelcome memories to overwhelm her. But Shoshana wasn't concerned with unwelcome memories; she was all too glad to be back in her husband's arms, warm and loved again. Nothing would ever cause her to forget that horrible, horrible day, but her husband's embrace could certainly overwhelm it at least for a little while.


	23. Chapter 23

Erik had promised when it came to Shoshana's pregnancy, whatever happened, whenever it happened, they would take it in stride. So why was she so nervous when a year after moving to the camp by the worksite she missed her period two months in a row? She pretended to be on her monthly when they were supposed to arrive, in case maybe the weather or stress had caused her to skip a month… but two months in a row? That was as firm a sign as any.

Shoshana paced around the tent, wringing her hands. She hadn't gained any weight yet, maybe Erik wouldn't notice for another month or two? Dancing again had kept her fit and trim in this otherwise desolate place, something she resorted to as a way to both pass the time and exert some energy instead of walking around the bustling marketplace of Mazenderan which was now two days ride away. She had started growing stir crazy, and while she was sure her husband didn't mind her increasing desire for sex Shoshana needed a more regular outlet to fend off her cabin fever. Within six months she had learned enough French to read some of the books Erik had brought along, and she had started speaking to him in his native tongue on the work site. None of the men knew Hebrew, the language they normally conversed in, but French seemed even more private and was far more romantic.

One thing was certain; Erik would find out no matter how long Shoshana delayed telling him. She sat on the bed, holding the flat of her belly as if seeking help from the little life inside. Would Erik be more or less upset the longer she waited to tell him? Maybe she could warm him up to the idea before telling him. No… every time she had brought up children, Erik had reacted negatively. Shoshana was mid-thought, still holding her belly when Erik came in from the build for lunch. He frowned deeply at the sight of her.

"Are you feeling ill?" He asked, checking her forehead for fever. An illness this far from a city would be dangerous.

Shoshana was snapped out of her thoughts, and smiled up at him. "Oh, no. Just daydreaming," she promised and got up to get him bread and wine with a kiss.

"What about?" He smiled back and returned the peck.

"Oh, nothing important," Shoshana lied, quickly changing the subject. "Did the floor install go as planned?"

"It went very smoothly," Erik accepted the bread and wine his wife offered, moving to sit with her at the table. "Would you like a glass?" He offered, handing her a piece of bread.

"No, but thank you," she smiled.

"Are you sure you're feeling all right?" Erik asked again, inspecting her carefully.

"Wonderful, actually. It just gets lonely around here is all," she promised. True to her word, she felt amazing. She had always heard horror stories of aches, pains, and morning sickness, but she was getting none of that at all. If anything, Shoshana's health had improved since becoming pregnant. She hadn't gotten so much as the hiccups in weeks, and her hair and skin were softer than ever. Erik believed her, and ate with his life, each telling the other about their day so far though Shoshana certainly left out a few very important details.

Erik left, and Shoshana breathed a sigh of relief. She loved her husband immensely, but she was so nervous about his response. She reclined in bed, tracing patterns on the flat of her belly absently while thinking. She was so excited for this baby, and she wanted nothing more than to share that with Erik. She knew in her heart telling him would not be pleasant. Maybe, just maybe he would grow to be as excited as she was already. There was no way to know without telling him, and the more she thought about it the more she thought Erik would be angry if he had to find out on his own. There should be no secrets kept from one another, especially not a secret this big.

After sunset, Erik slipped back into the tent to find Shoshana napping in bed, hand on her belly again. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed and kissed her forehead. "Wake up, my darling. If I make dinner will you have the stomach to eat it?" He asked, gently.

Shoshana stretched with a smile. "Mm, yes. I'm starving actually, but let me help. I just closed my eyes for a minute, I didn't even realize I'd fallen asleep."

"I'm really worried about you, Shoshana. You've been acting strange the past few days. Today especially. Are you sure you're feeling all right?"

"…Actually I really am great, Erik. But I have been meaning to talk to you. Do you remember when we had that talk a year or so ago? About how we weren't going to worry about having a baby until it happened?" She asked, as she moved to gather up food for dinner.

Erik rubbed the back of his neck. "Do we really have to talk about this again, right now? It's been a long day."

"I think it's important that we talk about it, yeah… Erik, I'm pregnant."

Erik nearly dropped his plate as he carried it to the table. "Excuse me?"

"I'm pregnant."

"… Is this like when you were a week late?" He ventured, already feeling a cold sweat take his body.

"No. I've missed it twice, and I'm going to miss it again next week too," Shoshana told him carefully. "I'm really pregnant this time. And Erik, I feel wonderful. I feel so… alive. I don't know if that makes any sense, but I'm excited and I hope you will be too-"

"Is this what all the sex has been about these past few months?" Erik demanded suddenly, and Shoshana's eyes widened.

"What? Erik, of course not! The sex has been because I love you, you know that," she folded her arms bitterly; being accused of having sex for sinister purposes was deeply offending.

"God damn it Shoshana-"

"Don't you dare speak like that!" She snapped. "Don't you dare speak negatively about our baby. You don't have to be excited as I am Erik, but I will not have you damning our baby. Did you ever stop to think that's what happened to you?"

Erik growled dangerously but Shoshana held her ground. He had struck her once before, but she knew he would never dare again, especially not if she was with child. "Don't you take that tone with me, Shoshana."

"I'll take whatever tone I want when it comes to our baby." She told her indignantly. "I love you Erik, but this baby is my responsibility even if you're not ready for it to be your responsibility. It's my job as it's mother to stand up for it and do everything in my power to keep it safe, whether that be from weather, starvation, or damnation."

Without so much as a word, Erik put his plate on the table, and stalked out of the tent. Shoshana's eyes widened and she moved to the entrance of the tent after him. "Erik? Erik where are you going?"

"I haven't decided yet," he grumbled back at her, stalking off into the darkness where Shoshana couldn't follow.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Shoshana moved back inside completely forgetting about the food she had brought out. She collapsed into bed with a sob, terrified that she had just succeeded in running her husband off for good.


	24. Chapter 24

Erik returned to the build site the next morning without having returned to his tent the night before. He did not return on his lunch hour that day, but Shoshana heard rumors of his presence. It was pretty hard to miss the presence of a tall, masked European among Persians, so she breathed a sigh of relief at this talk around the camp. When the sun set and it looked like her husband wasn't going to return for dinner, Shoshana prepared a basket of food and a bottle of wine to bring to him.

Venturing out to the build sight at night was quite a task. It was pitch black but for the light of the stars and the moon, which was only just under half full that night. The building was a behemoth, a beautiful, monstrous sight in its incompleteness. Every floor was finished, but the final year would be spent detailing every room with marbles and tiles, expensive wood paneling, and all the other artistic touches Erik had planned requiring meticulous detailing. It would be nearly impossible to find Erik in here if he didn't want to be found between the building's size and all its tricks.

The building was too large to roam every room looking for him, so she quietly walked down every hall calling his name. Finally, she went up to the roof and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her husband, leaning back on his hands and watching the sky. Shoshana approached him quietly, sitting beside him and placing the basket down next to her. Erik didn't so much as look at her, so absorbed was he in his thoughts. She knew better than to disturb him; there was a good chance he hadn't even noticed her yet, in which case she had no desire to startle him.

Finally he spoke. "What are you doing up here? It's an awfully long way to fall."

"I'm not going to fall," Shoshana promised quietly. "You didn't eat last night, or at lunch so I brought you some food and a bottle of wine. If you want me to leave I will, but I wanted to make sure you were eating," her husband nodded his thanks, quietly. "Is this where you slept last night?"

"It is."

"It's really beautiful up here. It's beautiful in our bed too," she added, looking at him. "You're ready to run, aren't you?" Her voice was so timid and quiet she wasn't sure she had been heard.

"…I don't know, Shoshana. I liked things fine how they were and now..."

Shoshana took a shaky breath. "You don't love me anymore," she finished for him, and Erik hung his head.

"That's not exactly it, Shoshana. I still love you I just don't love what's happening. I don't love the baby, I don't love the thought of a baby. If I find out you were sleeping with me just to get pregnant-"

"I told you that's not the case, why can't you believe me?" She demanded, hurt by that thought.

"It's so much easier to think you were conspiring against me than that this is just… happening. At least then I have someone to blame, an excuse to be free."

Wiping at her eyes, Shoshana spoke. "I'm not trying to chain you to me, Erik. A baby isn't a lock and key. If you want to run, run. As much as I want you in my life, I want you to be happy more. I'm not the selfish person you seem to think I've turned in to."

"Can't we just get rid of it, Shoshana? It would be so easy, everything would go back to normal," the young woman's eyes widened.

"No, Erik! Maybe everything would 'go back to normal' for you, but I for one couldn't live with the guilt of throwing our child to the wolves. It's not going to happen. If you don't want me or the baby, I'll go back to Mazenderan and when the build here is finished you can go. I won't be the first woman to raise a bastard child and I won't be the last. But please Erik, I beg you. Give us a chance. You're right, things have been so, so wonderful for us this year. Life has been… amazing. That doesn't have to change because of a baby, let me prove it to you," she offered, leaning her head on his shoulder. "If after some time passes you're not happy… you should go. But give it six months after the baby is born, or even a year," she had heard once that fathers don't love their children until they hold them for the first time, which was so hard for her to comprehend; she had fallen in love with the baby as soon as it was born.

Erik was quiet for a long while before speaking. "What did you bring to eat?"

Shoshana smiled privately, taking this as a small success. "That French baguette you ordered from Paris, with brie cheese and apples. There's smoked beef and fish in there too if you're still hungry," she offered. "The wine is the one you ordered from France too. I figured you hadn't eaten for a while, you might as well eat well."

Taking the basket, Erik sliced the baguette and handed her a piece with cheese and an apple before serving himself.

"I just had a thought," Shoshana ventured. "If something happens here, why don't we go to France, to Paris or Rouen or something? I know enough of the language to get by, and we'll have enough money that neither of us will have to work if we don't want to. You could design buildings and write music all day long."

"It's a thought," he conceded. "I've often thought I'd retire there someday. I just never assumed it would be in my twenties."

"No, no of course not," Shoshana promised. "Really we could go anywhere. You're talented enough to do whatever you want, wherever you choose to do it."

"Unfortunately, that's not all that matters to people in the west. It is an immensely vain culture," Erik sneered some, and his wife frowned.

"So we stay in the East until you want to retire. I'm sure the palace will be stunning when it's done, people all over will want to commission your work. Besides, you're earning quite a reputation as a trap door lover," Shoshana teased gently. "You said yourself, that takes a remarkable genius. I'm sure there's a market for it somewhere."

Erik actually chuckled some, much to her delight. "Yes, I suppose there is."

"You know, there's something I don't think you've considered about having a baby."

"What is that?"

"It means your arts and talents will never die. Reza was your apprentice in magic, whether out of the kindness of your heart or in serious attempt I may never know. But a son… A son could apprentice under you in everything. I saw how you were with Reza, you would make such a wonderful teacher," she promised, and Erik considered this.

"You're right. That is something I hadn't considered," he told her thoughtfully. For all his doubts about his parenting skills, he was confident in his talents and his ability to impart them on his own flesh and blood. Even if the child was as deformed as he was, it surely would have gained his ease of learning as well. This thought eased his mind considerably, and he moved an arm around his wife with growing content. She breathed him in deeply and smiled.

"Come back down to the tent?" she whispered and Erik instantly gathered her meaning.

Leaning over to kiss her gently, Erik whispered back even though they were clearly quite alone. "Why don't we stay up here tonight?" He suggested in the same manner, and even in the low lighting he could see Shoshana's deep blush.

"Erik!"

"What?" He asked, sounding thoroughly amused.

"It's so… so…"

"Public? Shoshana we're less likely to be seen and heard up here down in the camp. And you look stunning in this lighting, with all the stars," he promised kissing temptingly

"Can't I at least get some blankets?" Shoshana asked, trying to resist him for the time being.

"And ruin the moment? Come now…" with another thorough kiss Shoshana was sold, and she allowed her husband to blanket her to make love with him under the stars.


	25. Chapter 25

Seven months seemed to go by in no time. While Shoshana never did get the morning sickness she had heard horror stories of, she soon started gaining weight and the aches and pains in her back began. Erik was never exactly thrilled by the idea of having a child, but he was very helpful with her aches and pains, having various oils sent from all over the world to their camp and massaging them into wherever she hurt. She was a little disappointed he didn't share her excitement when the baby began to kick and tumble, but at this point she was simply glad he was here, and would give their little family a chance.

Shoshana had stopped several of the worker's wives when they came to visit their husbands, asking for any advice they had for her when it came time for her to give birth. They all raved about the benefits of a midwife a luxury that might not be available so far from Mazenderan. It was for this reason she decided that she would ride back into the city at the beginning of her ninth month of her pregnancy.

"Erik?" She ventured. "What do you think about going back to the court for a month or two?"

"Work is almost done here, I can't leave. Another two or three months and we'll be done, most of the court will come here," he explained, pouring her water and himself a glass of wine as they sat for dinner in their rooms. It was a nice improvement over the camp, offering more privacy and protection from the elements as her pregnancy progressed "Why?"

"I was just thinking it would be good to have the baby around more people. More women, especially. The ladies that visit here have all said a midwife is such a blessing."

Erik nodded his agreement. "A midwife would know better how to help you if something goes wrong than I would, yes."

"But I also think you should be with me when the baby is born. It's a two day ride to the court, there's no way you'd be able to make it on time if I sent word when I went into labor," she pointed out.

"I don't have to be there for the baby to be born. They likely wouldn't let me in the room anyway," Erik countered plainly as Shoshana started picking at her food.

"Well, probably not. But I won't be able to travel for a while after I have the baby. I might not be able to make it back for a few months."

"I can come see you as soon as the palace is complete, but I can't leave the project this close to the end."

Shoshana frowned some. "The men can't handle it for a month for the birth of your son?" She knew she shouldn't have been surprised at her husband's priorities, but knowing this project was more important to him than the birth of their child was still hurtful.

"No Shoshana, they can't. I've told you, I'm the only one here who knows every component of the building, if I left work would stop for the month," his wife nodded her understanding, but was still upset. Erik didn't bother pressing the matter.

Midway through packing, Shoshana finally spoke again. "What if something happens to one of us while I'm away?"

Erik sighed and moved to kiss his wife. "Is that what all this is about?" Quietly she nodded.

"I'm nervous. My mother died right after I was born, I never really got the chance to ask her about all of this. And the women here don't like me much so I haven't really learned a whole lot from them. Just the basics."

"Shoshana my love, women have been having children since the dawn of man. I swear to you, everything will be fine," he kissed her again soundly, and moved to hold her. "I am going to miss you, but we're not going to be apart forever."

"You realize we haven't been apart this long since before the wedding?" She mused, holding her arms around him over the large lump of her belly.

"I do. But we'll both have plenty to do in the mean time. I'll come back as soon as the build is complete, and when you're ready to move we'll come back here where it's safer," Erik promised. Shoshana seemed to relax some at the thought.

"I guess it really isn't that long…" she relented.

"Of course it isn't. A handful of months at the most." With a final kiss, Erik moved to help her pack. "It does remind me though. I made something for the baby."

Shoshana grinned at this. "You did? What is it?"

Erik moved to his work bench and pulled out a strange metal device Shoshana couldn't quite recognize. When he held up the device by a single string, its intention became clear. Winding a knob at the center of the device, the mobile began to chime a sweet little lullaby. Shoshana beamed and moved to embrace her husband as best she could working around the lump in her belly. "It's perfect, Erik. Thank you."

"Of course. It is my baby just as much as it is yours," he resigned, and for the first time Shoshana began to suspect he was actually a little excited for the coming addition to their family. She knew he would never admit it, but this was the first time he had admitted a sense of ownership in the child he had fathered. Shoshana was immensely proud, and more excited than ever.

The very next caravan that came to the build site, Shoshana left towards the court of Mazenderan. The trip was immensely hard on her body, and she wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed when she finally arrived at their old apartments locking the door firmly behind her. She smiled when she noticed the large bouquet of flowers with a note that they had been left by Nadir as a gift for her and the baby during their stay. She had picked a good time to leave; less than three days after arriving in Mazenderan, Shoshana's water broke and she went into labor.

The birth lasted for hours, and was like nothing she had ever known. She was so immensely glad for the midwife and for the Daroga in the absence of her husband, relying on them heavily to help her through the immense pain. After hours of pushing an sweating, in a rush of immense pain the baby was born, and within moments the midwife had the child crying. Shoshana couldn't help but grin through her exhaustion. What a beautiful sound! It made her breasts ache with the primitive need to feed her child, so much more beautiful than the wails of the newborns of the harem girls. The midwife cleaned the baby, and Shoshana clutched Nadir's shirt sleeve.

"How does he look? Erik was so worried…"

Nadir smiled down to her and wiped her brow. "_She_ looks wonderful. The spitting image of her mother," Shoshana's eyes widened as the midwife brought the baby over, and she stared down into the large brown eyes of a baby girl.

Between the old wive's tales of how her belly looked and the motion of a pendant over her belly, Shoshana had been absolutely certain her baby would be a boy. She stroked the baby's cheek gently, and a private smile played on her lips; she hadn't even considered what it would be like to have a girl, but she was so thrilled at her baby's perfection it didn't hardly seem to matter.

"What are you going to call her?" Asked Nadir, smiling down at the pair, immensely happy for his friend.

"…I don't know," she admitted, wide eyed. "I hadn't thought about a girl. I wish Erik was here. I'm sure he'd come up with something pretty."

"Well, what was your mother's name?"

"Sarina. It means smiling princess."

"I think that's a very fitting name," Nadir admitted, watching the newborn stare up at her mother, fascinated.

"Sarina it is then. My little princess."


	26. Chapter 26

Shoshana sent word to Erik about the birth of their child, writing to him about their beautiful little girl, and about how flawless she was. She told her husband how incredibly terribly she missed him, and how excited she was for him to meet their daughter. She told him her name was Sarina, and what the name meant and that it had been her mother's name. Everything she could possibly think to write was written and sent to Erik two full days away.

Erik read the note a hundred times, looking for any trace that it was a joke, or that something was wrong… but no. Shoshana was happy and healthy, and their baby was a flawless little girl. For the first time in ages, there simply was no second shoe that was waiting to drop, no bad news on the back end of the final page. Things had gone well, it was that simple. And things were going well on the work site. The finishing touches were coming into place now; furniture was arranged, curtains were hung, flowers were brought in from every corner of the world to greet the Sultan when he arrived. Every single trap door worked perfectly, including the one from Erik's living quarters to the world outside the Sultan was never to know about. Nearly two months to the day after Sarina had been born, Erik was able to leave the new, completed palace and return to Mazenderan to meet his daughter.

He hadn't announced that the project had been finished slightly ahead of schedule, nor that he was making his way into Mazenderan. After purchasing the loveliest flowers in the marketplace and a vial of his wife's favorite almond oil, he snuck into the palace like a specter and moved to their apartment for the first time in nearly two full years. Had it really been so long? It felt like he had arrived in Persia just days before… but it had truly been closer to three years. Three years since he had first met Shoshana, that strangely exotic little harem girl searching for an equally exotic little cat. Three years since they had become friends, and since their marriage had been arranged by powers beyond either's control. Within three years they had fallen in love, and now they had created a family. The more Erik thought about it, the more and more remarkable it really seemed.

Without so much as a knock, Erik let himself into the apartment. Shoshana nearly jumped out of her skin from where she sat, admiring their perfect little girl as she slept in her crib. She clutched at her chest instinctively before breaking out into a full run and leaping into her husband's arms. Wrapping her legs around his middle, she kissed him soundly.

"Erik! Oh Erik I've missed you so much! I can't believe you're here!" She exclaimed, throwing off his mask and covering his face in kisses. Erik couldn't help but laugh as he kissed his wife eagerly.

"I've missed you too, Shoshana," he promised. "So, so much. I got your letter."

"You didn't write back," she pouted, and Erik kissed her to quiet her.

"I wanted to finish the palace as soon as possible so I could come back to you. Except for reading your letter I did nothing but work," he explained, and kissed her deeply. "I did read the letter though, repeatedly. Everything is okay?"

"Everything is incredible, Erik. She's simply perfect, come and see," she took his hand, but Erik slipped free to put his flowers in a vase in an attempt to stall for time.

"Just a moment, these will die if they don't get in water," Shoshana frowned and moved to hug him from behind.

"Erik… you don't have to be nervous" she promised, kissing his shoulder. "She's going to love you. And I promise Erik, she's perfect. She only cries when she's hungry or tired. She sleeps a lot, and she's started smiling and singing. She loves the mobile you made her."

Erik nodded, and moved to retrieve the mask she had removed. Quietly she took it from his hand. "My love, if she grows up knowing you without it you won't ever have to worry about her being afraid someday."

"But she'll be afraid now-"

"She won't, I promise. Everything in our world is new to her, she's taking everything in stride," Shoshana kissed him to help steady his nerves, and took his hand to guide him to the crib.

Erik peered into the crib, and found himself staring into the large brown eyes of his daughter. He could hardly see the resemblance to himself, she was so perfect. Her cheeks were full and soft, paler than Shoshana's could ever have been though the baby had clearly inherited most of her other features. The girl stared up at him, brow furrowed curiously as she babbled her hidden language and chewed on one of her fists nervously at the sight of this stranger. But she didn't scream, and didn't cry. Sarina simply observed, and deciding the man meant her no harm reached up the hand that was not in her mouth in an attempt to touch his face. Shoshana smiled and lifted the girl from her crib to offer her to Erik.

"I couldn't-"

"Nonsense, Erik. I know how careful you are, you're not going to drop her. Here, support her neck. She can lift her head now, mostly. She's started rolling too," Shoshana smiled and passed the baby off to her husband. "You wouldn't believe how incredible she is. She sleeps all night, but she's up as early as you used to be. I'm worried she'll drink me dry though, she certainly got that from me," she teased, knowing her husband was a light eater.

Erik accepted the baby reluctantly, and continued watching the girl just as she continued to watch him. The girl looked over to her mother, who smiled at the girl and blew her a kiss. Sarina seemed comforted by this, and reached up to inspect the man she didn't know was her father. The infant inspected ever corner of Erik's face without fear, confused by this strange new man but certainly not afraid. "She's very brave," Erik whispered, not wanting to startle the girl.

"Like her father," Shoshana smiled, and moved to sit on the bed.

"I don't know about that."

"She reminds me so much of you, I don't know how. This I the first time she's met you, but she fixates on things just like you do. She can stare and sing with the mobile until she can hardly keep her eyes open. She does nothing in moderation."

Erik nodded quietly, unable to take his eyes off the girl. Shoshana immediately knew she had been right; while she had fallen in love with their child as soon as she knew she was pregnant, it had taken until this first meeting for Erik to fall in love. There was no doubt in her mind that her husband was just as in love with their daughter now as she was, and it filled her with joy. He had been so stubborn, so reluctant… and still he was in love with this fearless girl he had sired.

"Hello, Sarina. I'm your father," he smiled down at the girl, and Shoshana stood to move towards her husband and embraced him from behind.

"I love you, Erik," she smiled up at him and kissed his bare cheek.

"I love you too, Shoshana."


	27. Chapter 27

Sarina was so much like her father, the man couldn't help but fall in love. Shoshana loved the way he talked to their daughter as if she were already an adult, and loved even more the way Sarina stared at him and babbled back as if she understood every word. For several weeks, Erik smiled more than Shoshana had ever seen. For a man who had been firm against wanting children, playing with his daughter quickly became one of the highlights of his day.

"We should start our move," he announced one morning as the little family went out for their morning walk in the gardens. In spite of the heat Sarina was bundled up in her mother's arms to protect her pale skin from the sun.

Shoshana frowned. "Do we have to? I'm so nervous to take her into the desert for two days…"

"She'll be fine, my love. We'll travel slow and stop during the hottest parts of the day. It will take longer, but she'll be safe," Shoshana knew if her husband felt it was all right, it must be. He had gotten so attached to the girl he knew he would sooner die than let any harm come to her. That afternoon, they packed all of their belongings into travel bags to be loaded onto horses first thing in the morning. Erik cleaned out all of his secret nooks and crannies, some of which Shoshana hadn't even known about. She didn't bother asking where most of it came from; she knew she'd rather not know.

For the last time, they made love in the four-post bed that had brought them together. They curled up against one another, reminiscing on the eccentricities of their relationship. How Erik had sat in that chair off by the window, probably too drunk to perform on their wedding night, and how angry he had gotten when she had recoiled from his face. How careful he had been with her when his temper finally cooled as the alcohol left his veins. His charming concern for her comfort and well being… There were many pleasant memories to be had in this room, and several not-so-pleasant ones. Erik's rage in the bathroom, the time he had struck her… But all of it, good and bad was in the past now.

Sarina began to fuss in her crib, and Shoshana pecked her husband lovingly before slipping over him to their daughter's crib, not bothering to cover herself. Erik admired the nakedness of his wife she cooed gently into the crib and lifted the infant into her arms. He knew Shoshana's faith in her God had been shaken after her rape, but Erik couldn't help but think that this very moment was proof of God's existence in their lives. Erik, a man who should never have attracted a woman for all his ugliness, loved and was loved by one of the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. As stunning as she had been when they met, he found her even more beautiful now in spite of some of the weight she carried left over from the pregnancy. Her sheer, raw happiness in the moment was more attractive to Erik than her long legs and lithe figure had ever been. Shoshana placed the baby to her breast and returned to bed with her husband, laying against him contented. There was no doubt about it; for all of his faults, for all of his sins and the blasphemies he had committed, Erik was without a doubt blessed.

Early in the morning the couple packed their horses. Shoshana made a sling for the baby and carried her against her chest in case Sarina should fuss. With a small group of court members in tow, Erik led the caravan towards the palace at a pace that would be comfortable for spoiled royalty and for a young mother. The journey took three days rather than two, but was entirely uneventful much to Shoshana's relief.

Arriving at the palace was unfortunately not as ordinary an experience. As Shoshana and Erik began to unpack their horses, Nadir came to greet them almost immediately.

"Erik. I need to speak to you," there was a sense of urgency in his voice that worried Shoshana, but Erik didn't seem to notice.

"Can't it wait, Nadir? I've been in the sun for nearly three days," the masked man asked, and was met with a saddened look.

"I'm afraid not, Erik. It's not the Sultan or his wife who summons you, it is I. And as your friend I am begging you to see me now," Erik raised a brow under the mask, and ordered a stable hand to assist Shoshana with unloading the horses to move off and speak privately with Nadir.

"What is it, Daroga? I don't think I've ever seen you in such a state."

Nadir took a deep breath. "I've been ordered to kill you, Erik. It was to be done as soon as you arrive. No arrest, no gimmicks."

Erik's eyes widened, startled by this news. "Surely not! The Sultan is displeased with the palace?"

"No, no. In fact I believe that is the problem… he is so please he has ordered the assassination of every man who aided in its construction. Anyone who's seen the plans is to be murdered. He sent me to kill you myself, because of your reputation."

"That paranoid bastard!" Erik seethed. "He's afraid we'll sell the secrets of the palace to his enemies! After everything I have done for the man-"

"Erik keep your head about you. We must act quickly. Once the Sultan realizes your caravan is in, he will start growing suspicious. You have no idea how much this breaks my heart, my friend," Nadir told him sadly, with a look back at Shoshana. "But you must run, now. And your wife must stay."

Firmly, Erik shook his head. "If I must run I am taking her with me."

"You know that isn't possible for what we planned. Remember your scheme when I arrested you before? It is the same, but in order to feign your death you _must_ run alone. I can find a poor dead man in the desert to dress in a mask and black clothes, I cannot fake the deaths of Shoshana and your daughter, not realistically. If you three are going to have any chance at survival, you must run alone."

Erik knew in his heart that the Daroga was right, and his heart shattered into a thousand pieces. Nodding quietly, Erik clasped the man's shoulder gratefully. "Give me five minutes to speak to Shoshana. Then assemble your men to leave thirty minutes after. That should be all the head start I need."

Nadir nodded. "Make sure you take a rested horse, I'll be chasing you as fast as mine will carry me. When we lose track of you, I'll send the men back and arrange the death. Good luck, my friend," The Daroga told the man, embracing his friend fondly. Much to his surprise, Erik returned the gesture and clasped his shoulders.

"Consider our debt settled for this, Nadir."

The Daroga shook his head. "A life debt doesn't ever end. We're simply mutually indebted now," he mused, moving off to ready his men.

Fight off tears, Erik approached his wife and pulled her aside to speak well out of the range of anyone who may be listening. "Shoshana… I have to leave."

Shoshana furrowed her brows curiously. "Did you forget something? I'm sure someone on the next caravan will bring it over."

"No, Shoshana… I have to leave for good. The Sultan has ordered anyone involved with the building of the palace to death. He sent Nadir for my head specially. He's going to let me go, but for his own safety and for mine I need to leave immediately," Erik explained, and Shoshana frowned.

"Well it will take me a few minutes to pack the horse again but-"

Erik took a breath. "Shoshana you can't come."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously at that. "No, Erik. I'm not letting you do this. I'm not letting you abandon me here. What about Sarina?" She demanded, tears welling in her eyes. When Erik moved to kiss them from her face she pushed him harshly away. "Don't you touch me."

"Shoshana… Shoshana I'm so sorry. But I have no choice. Nadir is going to fake my death to throw them off my trail, but he simply can't fake yours and Sarina's. Besides, he must give chase in full force, and you are not as strong a rider as it will take, especially not with the baby. It simply isn't possible, not if we're going to live," this was met with a hard glare by Shoshana.

"You've been trying to escape the responsibility of Sarina since the minute you knew she existed!" Shoshana accused, angrily. Her tears flowed freely now. "Well fine, Erik. You did what you promised, you gave us a chance. So go. You've never believed in duty anyway, so go!" She shouted at him, moving back to the horse as the baby began to cry.

Erik caught her by the arm and pulled her into his embrace. She sobbed, and struggled only half heartedly. Kissing his wife soundly, she wondered if the tears she tasted were only her own. "As soon as I am settled I will send word to you. This isn't over, Shoshana. I love you desperately," he promised, kissing her until she finally returned his kisses just as passionately. "I swear on my life, we will be together again. But I must leave, Shoshana. Please, please understand."

Wiping viciously at her eyes, Shoshana nodded. As long as she had known him, Erik had always been good on his word. If he said this wasn't the end… she had no choice but to believe him. "Okay. Please be safe, my love. Write to me?"

"As often as I can, and without a doubt you will hear from me when I settle. I love you. And you, mon petit ange," he told his wife and daughter, kissing his wife soundly and planting a kiss on his daughter's perfect little head. How desperately he hoped he would be able to keep his promise and see them again.

"I love you too," Shoshana promised, holding her daughter tightly against her breast as her husband moved like a shade, leaping gracefully onto the back of one of the Sultan's finest horses without so much as a saddle. Shoshana watched him until he vanished into the horizon. Before the hour was out, Nadir and his men stormed into the stables and mounted their beasts to give chase. Shoshana bustled to the side of the stables so as not to get under foot, and noticed the heartbreakingly apologetic look the Daroga gave her before shouting in a voice harder than she had ever heard from him before. In all these years, she had only ever known the man and not the princely police chief, she realized.

"Move out before the winds cover his tracks!"


	28. Chapter 28

Nadir was exiled from Mazenderan for his inability to capture and destroy Erik. Erik's "body" had been found several days after the search had begun, drowned on the banks of the Caspian Sea, his death apparently a complete accident. The Daroga's only hesitation in leaving Persia was in leaving behind Shoshana and her young daughter, who would now be entirely at the mercy of the court and the new Daroga.

Shoshana kept the man company as he packed, bouncing Sarina lightly as she frowned. "Where will you go?"

"I'm not sure." Nadir admitted. "I was born and raised at the old court. Going into Russia to fetch Erik was the furthest I'd ever gone. Perhaps I'll travel for a while. Erik said Europe was beautiful, perhaps this is Allah's way of telling me to go out and see it," the man smiled gently, and Shoshana moved to kiss his cheek.

"You've been so good to us, Nadir. I hope I get to see you again someday."

"So do I, Shoshana. Be safe, won't you? The walls here have ears, be careful of what you say at all times."

Shoshana smiled sadly. "Who would I talk to? Don't worry about me, Nadir. I'll be leaving here so enough myself," she promised with more hope in her voice than she felt. It had been several days since Erik had left, and there was still no word from him at all. She hoped with all her heart nothing had happened to him.

The days after Nadir left became a blur. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into a year. Still, she heard no word from her husband, neither a love letter nor his whereabouts. Every day that went by, she became more and more convinced he was dead. Sarina grew more and more beautiful every day, which was the only factor that ever seemed to change in her otherwise mundane palace life. The girl became Shoshana's whole world, and it reflected in their bond. As brave as Sarina was, she disliked strangers coming into she and her mother's life, and would fuss if a servant or harem girl held her at Shoshana's request. As bold as the girl could be, she was shy around strangers; not unlike her father, Shoshana mused.

About a year after Erik's departure, Shoshana was unexpectedly summoned to the Sultana's chambers. It was the first time since marrying Erik she had been in the Sultana's immediate presence, a fact which made her incredibly nervous; she knew the Sultana well, and knew she never called in anyone to her chambers for pleasant reasons. Shoshana dressed neatly, but conservatively and carried Sarina on her hip. "It's really important that you be good while I speak with the Sultana, all right mon petit ange?" She had loved Erik's pet name for their daughter so much she had taken it up in his absence.

Sarina nodded curtly. "Yes, Mama," she said with such certainly anybody listening would think this was merely a fraction of her vocabulary, and they wouldn't be wrong.

Entering the Sultana's chambers, Shoshana knelt briefly before the woman as she lounged on her divan looking every bit the spoiled whore she was. The Sultana motioned for Shoshana to rise, and the younger woman obeyed, adjusting the baby on her hip who was inspecting the beautiful room.

"What a lovely child!" Exclaimed the Sultana. "Your husband's, no doubt?"

"My deceased husband's, yes."

"Such a pity about his death. I tried to tell my husband to let the man be, but he simply wouldn't have it," the insincerity was dripping off her voice so heavily Shoshana thought if she looked hard enough she could probably see it. "What's the child's name?"

"Sarina, Your Highness."

"What does it mean?" Demanded the woman, and Shoshana thought fast. She knew any threat to her thrown by suggesting the girl was a princess would not be met well.

"I'm not sure. It was my mother's name, and I hadn't prepared anything else," she explained, and the Sultana nodded.

"It must be difficult, raising Sarina all on your own," the woman remarked, and instantly Shoshana knew what she had been summoned for.

She shook her head. "Actually it hasn't been, Your Highness. Sarina is an easy child, I am very lucky."

"Yet you had to bring her today," the Sultana pointed out with a triumphant smirk.

"Well, yes. I haven't anybody to watch her…"

"You do now. I've decided to give you a husband to care for you and your daughter. I feel so terribly about marrying my favorite little dancer off to such a wicked man, and then to have him killed! Hopefully this will help ease your burden," anyone listening would have known this was not the case at all, and that this was simply another one of the Sultana's twisted games.

"Your Highness! That is very thoughtful, but really I don't require a husband. Give the man a virgin, someone who hasn't been ruined by birthing a child," she suggested modestly as she could, trying to hide her heartbreak at the idea of lying with anyone but Erik.

"Now, why would you not want a new husband to care for you?" The sultana asked, in fake curiosity that caused Shoshana's blood to freeze. "Is it because your husband isn't really dead?"

Shoshana hang her head with a solemn frown, and answered truthfully. "I really couldn't say if he is alive or dead, Your Highness. Either way I am raising his child alone, and I don't feel the need for help."

"But it is help I am giving you nevertheless," the Sultana smirked wickedly, that one little frown from the dancer enough to tell her that, alive or dead, the young woman was still in love with her husband and that this arranged marriage would certainly toy with her sense of morality. This was just the sort of game the Sultana loved. Having set all the pieces into play, it was time to lean back and admire her handiwork. With a wave of her hand, the Sultana dismissed the young mother, who walked numbly back to her apartment in the palace.

"Mama?" Sarina asked, studying her mother's grief stricken face as she set the infant down on the bed.

Quietly, Shoshana kneeled before her daughter and held her hands. "Sarina, I don't know if you'll understand this… but do you feel like you need a father? A Papa?" She asked, quiet seriously. Sarina tipped her head.

"But Mama, I have Papa," the toddler explained, and Shoshana smiled through the tears that stained her cheeks.

"Yes mon petit ange, you have the most wonderful Papa in the world. And we're going to see him again someday," she told her daughter, not for the first time; she had been telling Sarina stories of Erik since he had left, and was not surprised the bright young girl knew in her heart she had a father.

Knowing she and her daughter would be all right, Shoshana quickly began to pack a bag with only the necessities. Every last coin and gem Erik had earned or stolen was packed, along with clothes and blankets enough to brave any sort of weather she imagined they might encounter. Plenty of food was added as a finishing touch, and without informing anyone Shoshana took her daughter out of the palace through the escape passage Erik had built for them. She knew if she attempted to leave the palace any other way, she would be captured and only allowed to leave in a casket.

Tipping a stable boy generously procured her a strong looking horse and help packing the beast sufficiently. When asked, she remarked she would return to her homeland, but this only served to cover her tracks should the boy be questioned; She didn't know where she would go, but home certainly wasn't an option.

Within several days, mother and daughter were settled into an inn in Turkey. Shoshana had not stopped riding until she was certain she was not being followed. As she suspected, the Sultana did not care enough about her sick games to give chase outside the Persian borders and risk ruffling the feathers of neighboring countries. Even if she had given chase, odds are her men were neck deep in the religious and racial wars going on in the holy land by now. No, they would be safe her to rest for a few days, before continuing into Europe, following in Nadir's footsteps.


	29. Chapter 29

Shoshana never did hear from her husband, though she supposed that if he were alive he would have written to her in Mazenderan and would not have anticipated her flight from the country. Travel had slowed immensely after arriving in Turkey, but Shoshana did not settle down with her daughter until she reached Moscow, three and a half years after leaving Persia. She did not go the direct route north through Azarbaijan, but instead traveled through Turkey and parts of Eastern Europe before reaching Russia, the country where her husband had last been before arriving in Persia. She couldn't help but hold hope that perhaps he had returned, and she would find him there. For nearly a year every shadow on the street, every man in a hood, every glimmer out of the corner of her eye made her heart leap in anticipation, but her husband never arrived.

Fortunately for Shoshana, the language barrier was quickly overcome when she moved into an apartment building adjacent to the Bolshoi Academy, a world renowned ballet school in the heart of Moscow. The building housed a large population of Ashkenazi Jews, much to Shoshana's delight; the culture of these European jews was entirely different than her heritage in Jerusalem, but the language carried very few variations. Her neighbors, a quiet old couple with no children left in their household took the young woman and her four year old daughter under their wing. The couple was so kind to Shoshana and Sarina, teaching both Russian in a matter of months and even employing Shoshana in their household to do the cooking and cleaning the lady of the house was too arthritic to do anymore.

After so many years of living alone, Shoshana found that she really enjoyed the company of quiet older couple. Where Erik had once been her only friend in a strange world, Shoshana was once more surrounded by a kind, if strange little family. It was certainly easier to raise Sarina with the help of an experienced older couple than it had been before settling in Moscow. Most of the families in the building were older but there were several children close to Sarina's age, much to Shoshana's relief. The girl was brave but was far from a social butterfly, and while she had to be coaxed to go out and play with the other girls at least it was some form of social contact with her peers.

For Sarina's fifth birthday, Shoshana enrolled her daughter in dance classes at the Bolshoi Academy. This was where the girl really thrived. She moved with the grace of her mother and the agility of her father from a very early age, and it seemed like the girl would have a very promising career at the ballet if she chose to pursue such a path. Sarina was immensely bright and clever, but uncomfortable in social situations. None of this seemed to matter when she danced, however. Shoshana helped her stretch and pose before and after her rehearsals, and found herself dancing again as well. Her daughter's sheer joy at the time spent with her mother was incredibly heartwarming for the young woman who had lost so much.

Year after year went by in no time at all. Sarina grew up into a stunning young woman right before her mother's eyes. Her skin remained pale, her eyes remained large and dark, and her passion for dance remained strong.. Sarina's natural talent and immense passion for the art had propelled her through the corps de ballet and the coryphée, earning her the rank of Sujet by the time she was fifteen. There was no doubt she would eventually earn the rank of première sujet, a true prima ballerina. But a rank of that magnitude required time and dedication, and was not a title that could be earned at fifteen.

Her rank as sujet had made her a prominent figure at the Bolshoi, and had won her the attention of a young medical student by the time she was seventeen. This was the first time Shoshana had ever seen her daughter voluntarily leave the apartment to socialize with anyone, and she knew this young man must be very special indeed. When he asked Shoshana for her daughter's hand in marriage a year later, she agreed whole heartedly. The boy was polite, kind, and came from a good family with a steady future ahead of him. She could not have possibly imagined a better husband for her daughter, and really the girl seemed quite smitten with the handsome young Russian. The ceremony was modest only the pair's closes companions and family members attending; it was the first time in years Shoshana had wished so much for her husband to be there it brought her to tears.

Not a day passed that Shoshana didn't wonder where her husband had gone to, if he had died or if she had been abandoned, or perhaps neither. Perhaps he simply hadn't been able to settle by the time she left to avoid remarrying. No matter what happened to him, he simply wasn't there to watch his little angel grow up into such a remarkable young woman.

Sarina knew her mother had always wanted to travel Europe, and see the places her father had told her about in his stories. She knew the sacrifices her mother had made for Sarina's safety and well being by transplanting them from Persia to Russia, and never for a moment took them for granted. Her mother was her closest friend and companion even over her new husband, so it was the least she could do to ask her husband for the money to send her mother through Europe as a gift for her birthday.

"Sarina, Dmitri, I can't accept this!" Shoshana told her daughter and son-in-law, startled by the amount of money in the envelope.

"It's nothing," Dmitri promised, smiling at the woman who had nothing but kindness in her heart; most of his peers complained about their mothers in law, Dmitri's had quickly become family. "It was Shoshana's idea. She said your husband spent a lot of time in Europe, and that you always wanted to go. With everything you've done for us it's the least we can do for you."

Shoshana pushed the envelope back into the young man's hands. "No, no. Take the money, go on a honeymoon! Enjoy yourselves, Sarina could use a season off from the ballet as it is-"

"I'm still in school, Mother," Dmitri told her with a laugh. "I can't go anywhere for another year, and Sarina shouldn't leave either with her career in full swing. But you should go."

Sarina kissed both of her mother's cheeks and hugged her tightly. "We'll be all right without you for a year. You deserve it, Mama. Please, take it." She pressed the envelope back into her mother's hands, and Shoshana smiled tearfully. The following week, she was on the road to visit all the places she had wanted to see since she was a little girl.

Moving south and east, Shoshana visited even the places Erik had only mentioned briefly. She went to Romania and visited a Gypsy show, stunned and heartbroken by what she saw. It was impossible for her to imagine her husband, the love of her life as a little boy in a cage like the ones that held Siamese twins and bearded women, displayed like a freak of nature because of his face. From there, Shoshana went to Salzburg in Austria-Hungary and visited the house of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, her husband's most beloved composer. She was stunned by the beauty of the architecture of all of eastern Europe, but even its quaint village feel was nothing in compared to the beauty of Italy. Shoshana traveled only as far South as Rome and spent a full month exploring the city that had been home to her husband for several years. She felt as if she could live forever among the ancient, often decaying architecture. It was such a charming, robust city, Shoshana could see why it was one of Erik's favorites. She traveled Rome for over a month, trying to see every last inch of the millennia old city and wondering where it was that Erik had stayed, which of the buildings he had helped build. She wondered if Erik's former master was still alive, but knew there was simply no way to find him without knowing his name or where he lived. As she got ready to return north, Shoshana couldn't help but wonder if this is where her husband had relocated to all those years ago; she certainly could see why, if he had.

After Italy, Shoshana made her way north and further east into France. Paris was well out of the way if she wanted to continue down into Spain, but Shoshana didn't care. It would be worth the few days extra journey to see the place she had been dreaming of since she had been a little girl. She simply couldn't believe the beauty she was confronted with. It was well into autumn by the time Shoshana arrived, and the colors of the leave contrasted with the earthy tones of the city were simply awesome. If she spent a month in Rome, she must have spent two in Paris simply observing the sights. On her very last day, Shoshana traveled to her favorite little market to purchase supplies for her trip to Boscherville, the place of Erik's birth. It was there that she bumped into an oddly familiar man entirely on accident.

"My goodness, how clumsy of me!" The man exclaimed in heavily accented French as he bent over to gather the goods Shoshana had dropped from her basket. She knew that voice-

"Nadir? Dear God, is it really you?"

The Daroga's eyes widened immensely in shock. "Allah! Shoshana! Surely I'm looking at a ghost!"

Shoshana laughed and hugged the man tightly. "Nadir it's been too long! How have you been? What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? I could ask the same of you! Erik said he wrote-" Shoshana's smile vanished in an instant.

"…Erik? He survived, then?" She ventured quietly, and Nadir took her hands in his.

"He more than survived, Shoshana. He said he wrote you as soon as he settled here, but you never came."

"I had to leave, Nadir. The Sultana wanted to marry me off to one of her latest pets. I just… couldn't do it. Even thinking Erik might be dead I simply couldn't bear the thought of being with another man. It wasn't right, and I knew Sarina and I would be killed if I didn't marry or run, so I ran. If he wrote it was after I left Mazenderan a good year after Erik did," she explained, and Nadir frowned. "Nadir, do you know where he is?"

The Daroga nodded solemnly. "I do. But Shoshana… I do not know that it would be good for you to see him."

"Is he not well?"

"No, he isn't," this caused Shoshana to frown deeply. "So much has happened, I don't even know where to begin."

"What is wrong with him?"

Nadir hesitated. "Heartbreak. Or what he thinks is heartbreak. There was a young woman here, a singer. But Shoshana, please don't fret. He is… unwell," the man touched his head to indicate it was not a bodily illness. "He has been ever since he came here. I know in my heart it was you he saw in the girl, and that it was you that drew him to her-"

"I want to see him," Shoshana told him, trying not to let her upset show at this news. She had run from Mazenderan to avoid remarrying, she had turned down men in Moscow who could have provided for her well into her old age, but Erik had replaced her? Upset did not begin to describe the torment in her heart.

"It's late, why don't you stay with me the night and we'll go tomorrow? I want to hear your story!" He exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood as best he could. Shoshana nodded weakly and took his arm to follow him to his apartment. "Where is Sarina? She must be ten or eleven by now," the man smiled, and Shoshana very nearly laughed in spite of her heartbreak.

"How I wish she were so young. She's with her new husband in Moscow, and very nearly twenty!"


	30. Chapter 30

Shoshana was up well before Nadir in the morning, having been unable to sleep the night before. Erik was alive! Shoshana wasn't sure what to make of it all; he had lived, he had tried to write her, she had simply gone before his message could arrive. For going on twenty years she had lived a lonely life, surrounded by people but still loved only by her flesh and blood. Life had simply been incomplete. But now she had the opportunity to reunite with him, to become whole again… and he had moved on. He had fallen in love with another woman, by the sound of it. A European debutant at the opera, a French native like him no doubt. She only knew parts of the story, but what she could gather broke her heart.

Even still, she knew she had to see him. First thing in the morning Shoshana dressed, and cooked breakfast for her host. Nadir took his time readying in the morning, clearly nervous about what it was they might find when they went to go visit his old friend; he hadn't the heart to tell her, but he wasn't entirely sure the man was still alive, let alone mentally stable enough to handle the sudden arrival of his wife from so long ago and so many miles away.

When they finally left the Daroga's flat, Shoshana's heart was beating so intensely she was sure all of Paris could hear it. She was forty years old, more than twice as old as she had been when Erik had met her and infinitely more world weary… would Erik notice? Would the circles under her eyes or the several strands of graying hair on her head make her less attractive to him? Nervously she gripped Nadir's arm as he led them into the opera house. They stuck out wildly amidst the pale and prim Europeans who populated the Opera. Quietly he moved through the building, and before Shoshana realized what was happening they were suddenly in a deep, dark portion of the Opera she would have never guessed existed.

"Nadir, why have you brought us here?" She asked, uneasily.

"…This is where he lives now, my dear. It's where he has lived for a long, long time. The entire time I have been living in Paris, at least."

Shoshana frowned deeply. "How long has that been?"

"Oh. Fifteen years now I should think, more or less. It's strange, it feels like longer but at the same time it also feels like I only just arrived," he mused, slipping behind several prop pieces before calling out to Shoshana from what seemed to be much further away than he had gone. "It's a bit of a drop, but I'll catch you," he promised, and the girl raised a brow as she followed his path behind the props. To her astonishment, a square hole in the lower part of the wall seemed to open up into complete darkness. Nervously she dropped down into the Daroga's waiting arms. "I'm getting far too old to be catching beautiful young women," he mused, trying to keep his spirits up in such a dismal place.

Fortunately for them both, the room they had dropped into was in pieces. Glass was strewn across the floor, though shards of mirror still clung desperately to the walls. Shoshana could just make out a tree in the dim light, and covered her mouth when she caught sight of an all too familiar string of catgut in the haunting shape of a noose hanging from one of its branches. She instantly knew beyond a shadow of a doubt this was the torture chamber the Sultana had commissioned from him so many years ago. But why was it in ruins?

Nadir stepped through an opening in the many sided room, into the room that was the source of the dim light; a fire died slowly in its hearth, unattended the building's owner. The room was so familiar, yet so strange; its layout was nearly identical to the apartment Erik had built for them in the new palace of Mazenderan, though the furnishings were distinctly European. The bed had four posts not unlike the bed they had first made love in, but was fashioned in a baroque style like those she had seen in Austria, as were the chests of drawers in the room. Perhaps the room's most noticeable quality was the torn and bloody sheets on the bed, and the ruined dresses lying on the floor. It seemed to Shoshana as if an entire army had come through the room and brutally destroyed its mistress; images of her kidnappers and her time in Tehran flashed before her eyes at that thought and she quickly banished them back to the darkest corners of her mind.

"What happened?"

"Erik did," The Daroga responded with a deep frown, knowing in his gut the blood belonged to his friend. He dreaded what they might find when they ventured further into the house. What served as the dining room and sitting room was equally destroyed, with pages from books littering the entire area nearly wall to wall. There, the pair was faced with a door similar to the one they had just ventured through, cracked open only in the slightest. "It may be best if I go in alone…" Nadir ventured, and Shoshana shook her head.

"No matter what's in there, I am going in after you," she told him firmly, knowing he would try and deny her entrance if he did not like what he found. With a sigh of resignation, Nadir pushed open the door. This room was the most destroyed yet, with strips of black silk stained brown aged blood, wood in splinters all over the room… and a heap of black fabric in the center of the floor that seemed to be moving slightly. Without a moment's hesitation Nadir abandoned the girl at the door and rushed to the mass on the floor, turning it over to reveal the all too familiar form of Erik, thin as a rake with his bare face covered in blood.

Shoshana couldn't help but cry out and move to his side at the sight of him. "Oh, Erik! What have you done?" She demanded as if not a day had passed, moving to cradle the man in her lap as he stared up at her weak and dumbstruck.

"…Dear God, I've gone insane," he remarked, reaching up to touch her face as if she were little more than a hallucination. Shoshana cupped her hand over his and leaned into the touch she had been longing for for decades.

"I don't know that I can argue with you, Husband," she told him quietly, tears filling her eyes as she accepted a cloth from the Daroga and wiped Erik's face clean of blood. He flinched noticeably as the cloth ran over several neat cuts on his face. "Please don't tell me you did this to yourself-"

The man in her arms shook his head weakly. "The mask… it broke on my face. It was my own fault, but not my intention."

Shoshana heard Nadir groan from the corner of the room, picking a glass vial up off the floor. "You've been using again?" He demanded of the man, and Shoshana's eyes widened.

"Using what?" She demanded, looking from her husband to Nadir.

"Morphine," Nadir said simply. "He was on it when I first arrived here, to 'numb the pain of everyday life'. I got him off it, but apparently not well. I haven't the slightest clue how much he's taken."

"You can't really be here," Erik told himself more than Shoshana. "You're dead."

The woman wiped at her eyes, and took his hand off her cheek to kiss his palm. "No, I'm not dead. I'm here, Erik."

"Then I must be dead."

"You're not, you foolish man," Shoshana moved her kisses to his face. "I'm here, alive with you."

"But you never came-"

Her tears flowed freely at the utter heartbreak in her husband's voice. "I'm so, so sorry Erik. I never knew. The Sultana demanded I remarry, so I ran. I never heard from you, but how could you have known where I had gone? I never wanted you to be alone, I never wanted to be alone. But I had to leave, for us and for our daughter."

"Sarina…" it was Erik's face that was soon stained with tears at the mention of his darling little girl.

"Who is now the age of Mademoiselle Daae, apparently," the Daroga pointed out as he stood over them, arms folded some. "I told you-"

"Please Daroga," Shoshana ventured gently, and Nadir ceased his reprimand. "Erik, you're not well… please come with us. I'll clean you up properly and you can rest in a real bed."

For a long while there was no response, when finally Erik nodded weakly and was pulled to his feet by the Daroga who aided him in standing. The man had taken enough morphine to down a horse, Nadir suspected, and was in his own realm deep in thought as they moved up through the Opera once more, Shoshana covering her husband's head with her shawl to hide his face from curious onlookers. It was nothing short of a miracle Erik was alive at all, let alone that he had sense enough to walk to the Daroga's flat nearby, albeit with a great amount of assistance. Shoshana helped the man lay her husband in bed, and immediately moved to clean the wounds on his face with hot water. Erik clutched at her arm as she did so, but not out of pain.

"Shoshana… Shoshana if it isn't really you I see I'll simply die," he murmured, tearfully, aware enough to know he had consumed a great deal of substances that easily could be causing him to hallucinate his long lost love. "I can't lose you, not again."


	31. Chapter 31

Shoshana wasn't sure Erik would ever wake up, a thought which panicked her. He had commented that he couldn't lose her again; Shoshana painfully realized she couldn't live without him again either, not after she had just found him. It had been hard enough to survive the first time, with all of her strength and energy channeled into raising her daughter. She knew Sarina was the only thing that had kept her from dying of grief in those years, but now that her daughter was herself a bride Shoshana had nothing but the man who had been sleeping in Nadir's guest bed for going on two days. His breathing was shallow and labored for hours after his arrival in the Daroga's apartment, and his lips had begun to turn blue from lack of breath. Erik's pupils were the size of the head of a pin, far smaller than usual and he had fallen almost immediately asleep upon entering the apartment. Nadir proclaimed his faith that Erik would pull through his overdose, but Shoshana was not so sure.

God was not good, she had learned so many years ago. God allowed his People to be slaughtered in their homeland. God allowed one of his chosen people to be kidnapped from her bed twice in her life, once brought to Persia and once brought to the bed of a man who had abused her mercilessly. God had given her the gift of a child, only to have her husband and greatest love taken from her. Now God had given her back that man; she was merely waiting for the second shoe to drop, and for Erik's breath to stop entirely.

But it didn't. Erik kept breathing, and as the hours passed he breathed with greater ease. The color returned to his face, and in the second day of his sleep Erik began to stir again. By the morning of the third day, Erik had opened his eyes and was watching his wife sleep, curled next to him in the bed though fully dressed as if she had fallen asleep on accident watching over him. This couldn't be her. He had been so sure he was hallucinating, a sick fantasy his mind had come up with when combined with drugs and grief. Shoshana was dead. She had died with their daughter at the Sultana's hands. He had been so certain his young wife had met her fate in the mirrored torture chamber he built for the Sultana. It was easier to believe she had been ruthlessly murdered than that she simply had not returned his message. It was easier to believe she was dead than that she did not love him. Yet here she was, God only knew how many years later. The morphine had been out of his system long enough now that this was certainly not a hallucination.

Gently he moved to kiss her cheek, and half-asleep she smiled and stretched some. "Mmm, is it morning?"

"It is. You don't have to get up," Erik told her quietly before moving out of bed with a good deal of effort to close the blinds more completely; even the dim light of morning hurt his eyes and head. Returning to bed, he pulled his wife of so long ago into his arms and she slipped into them so comfortably she could have been sharing a bed with him for the past twenty years. She smelled exactly the same as she had so long ago, softening her skin all these years with the same combination of almond oil and cinnamon. Her hair was longer, and her face was more like that of a woman than of the girl he had married so long ago. They had been so young! It felt like centuries since he had last seen her, yet she was anything but an old woman. She was as beautiful as she had ever been, simply more mature and womanly.

Erik kissed his wife properly, and even half-asleep she kissed him back happily and moved deeper into his arms. She had always loved lazy mornings with her husband, lying in bed as if they had nothing in the world better to do than talk, kiss, and make love. Her favorite days in all of her memory were ones in which Erik had simply refused to work in favor of drawing the shades, locking the door, and spending the day with her as if she were all that mattered in the world. Never had she felt more special and beloved before or since those lazy days. Shoshana was looking forward to one such lazy morning when she opened her eyes to smile at her husband and was met with the sight of cuts upon his bare face and surroundings that were not quite those of their apartment in Mazenderan. Suddenly the events of the past twenty years rushed back into her head, and she cupped her husband's face in her hands to study him with a frown.

"How do you feel?" She kissed him soundly, tears streaking her face suddenly. "I was so worried you would never wake up-" Erik interrupted her with a lingering kiss.

"Like I was dragged across the desert by a horse. So, I've been worse," he told her truthfully.

"Erik… Erik, Nadir told me about the Daae girl. But I want to hear it from you," She whispered after a long moment of silence, not sure if she actually wanted to hear it from anyone. "Maybe not now, but-"

Erik shook his head. "No. You deserve to hear it from me in its entirety," he told her, a twinge of sadness and even guilt in his voice. "I know you probably won't believe me, but she reminded me so much of you. I was just starting to come to terms with the fact you were never coming, and that you were dead – I told myself you were dead, that had to have been the only reason you wouldn't come – when I met Christine. She was so much like you had been when we met. She was pretty, innocent, naïve but not without great tragedy in her life. She was without a family, many miles from home, a talented artist with no place or ability to show her talents. In a… rather pathetic attempt to keep your memory alive, I took her under my wing and trained her voice. But in my madness I went too far. I was drinking, using morphine and cocaine," he explained, trying not to dwell on how much pain the next few months would cause him attempting to break his addiction. "I fell in love with the girl, with her likenesses to you. She became a suitable way to fill the gaping hole in my heart I had been filling with drugs and alcohol, but she was in love with someone else. I became insanely jealous… I did so many terrible things to the girl and her love, to the people in the Opera, simply to try and win her love. Christine couldn't love me though, not like you did. I can't blame her either, the way I treated her. I was an absolute monster," he frowned.

Shoshana frowned as well. "…Did you ever sleep with her, Erik?"

"No. I might have if she had stayed," he told her quietly, unable to look at her out of shame. "I desired to, maddeningly. But I knew she would never come to me willingly. I didn't want just sex; I wanted to feel loved again. And I couldn't feel that if she didn't even want to stay with me."

Kissing her husband soundly, Shoshana's entire body flooded with relief. She was upset by the news her husband could desire any woman but her… but it was only natural. She too had longed for that feeling again, wrapped up in a man's arms feeling so beautiful and loved. Shoshana certainly couldn't be angry with her husband for feeling something she had felt herself. "I love you, Erik. I've missed you so much. I'm so incredibly sorry I wasn't here for you," tears stung her eyes again and she kissed him deeply. A sense of guilt overwhelmed her. If she hadn't been so selfish, if she had just stayed in Persia and married some aristocrat she would have gotten his message. He would have never delved into drugs, or tried to replace her with another woman. Her daughter could have had her father… Her thoughts were interrupted when Erik's lips met hers.

"I love you too, Shoshana," he promised, kissing her deeply. "You're here now, that's all that matters," Shoshana nodded tearfully, and returned his kisses eagerly. Shoshana undressed between kisses and joined her husband under the blankets to help him with his clothes. The pair was so involved with their tearful lovemaking neither noticed Nadir's brief entrance to check on Shoshana. The owner of the apartment left the moment he noticed the movements under the sheets as Erik tenderly kissed the woman who writhed beneath him. Closing the door behind him, Nadir went to the market to ensure the pair had all the privacy they needed.


	32. Chapter 32

"How is Sarina? How is our angel?" Erik asked, lounging in bed with his wife lazily draped over him.

Shoshana smiled up at him, tracing patterns into his chest. "She's married now, would you believe? To a wonderful young man she met at the ballet. She'll have quite the career there if she wants it," Shoshana added with a smile. "Sarina's been training since we got to Moscow. She acquired your passion and dedication and it will take her as far as she wants to go."

"You mean she inherited your talent and grace," Erik countered, kissing his wife's head.

"Perhaps a little. I've been practicing with her since she was five."

"I can tell," Remarked Erik, causing Shoshana to blush wildly. Erik chuckled at her shyness.

"She remembers you a little, did you know? At first I thought it was just my stories of you and of our life together, that maybe they had been too vivid and showed her things she only thought she remembered. But then she started humming the lullaby from the mobile you made her, the one you sang her to sleep with at times. I never did tell her about that."

Erik's brow furrowed at that, though not unhappily. "How curious. She must have also inherited my memory," Shoshana nodded, having suspected the same.

"Sarina is so beautiful, my love. I can't believe you were ever afraid for her appearance. Several men have chased after her over the years, you know. Dmitri was the first one to get her attention. He'll be a good doctor someday, he's a very bright boy. He actually paid for me to come here…" she mused, and Erik kissed her gently.

"I am forever in his debt, then," he told her, and Shoshana smiled.

"You should come back with me. There's always an apartment open in my old building, we can live together, grow old together," the very thought made her smile, but her smile vanished when Erik remained quiet. "What's wrong, Erik?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. It will just be hard to leave this place. It's been so long," he mused quietly.

"Twenty years," Shoshana agreed. "But Erik, is there anything here left for you? Nadir told me about the disaster… You'll probably be arrested if you stay."

"I don't intend to stay here," he promised. "I'm not ever leaving your side again. But it's going to be difficult to leave."

"Well. We can take as long as you need to leave," Shoshana told him quietly. "I was going to go Spain too, Sarina's not expecting me back for a while"

Erik nodded his agreement. "Thank you. I'm sorry to cut your trip short."

Shoshana smiled. "It's fine. Finding you here was so much better than Spain could have ever been."

In a week, Shoshana and Erik were packed and ready to leave France in favor of Russia. It was a tearful goodbye; Nadir refused to join them, knowing his health would not allow him to make the several month long journey. All three knew if Nadir didn't join them, they would likely never see him again. The man was older than they were by a good two decades, and was in rapidly declining health as old age set in. Finally they left Paris, and in four months time the pair arrived in Moscow. Erik's heart raced as they rode into the city. He was more nervous moving to Moscow than he could ever remember being before moving to any city before in his life. This was where he was going to spend the rest of his life. This was where his daughter and wife had been living for decades, where they had made their lives. This was where Erik was going to grow old with his wife, and eventually die with her. It was both exciting and immensely unnerving at the same time.

Shoshana led them to the apartment complex near the Bolshoi Academy, the same building she had been living in for so many years. "I haven't been paying rent on the apartment, but the landlord knows I've been away. I asked him to put my things in storage if somebody moved in, but the building isn't very busy," she told him, looking over at her husband who was once again masked in black leather. He nodded and dismounted, tying both their horses before helping her down from hers. Shoshana slipped into is arms happily, leaving her arms wrapped around his neck for a long moment and smiling up at him. "I love you, Erik. Welcome home," she smiled, and Erik kissed his wife soundly.

"You as well, my love," he promised, and laced their fingers to squeeze her hand tightly.

After a brief conversation with the landlord, Shoshana paid the remainder of the month's worth in rent and then some as a way to thank the man for not disposing of all her earthly possessions. It was clear to Erik that everybody whose lives had ever been touched by his wife adored her immensely, something that made him remarkably proud to be the man she called husband. Her landlord saved her apartment without pay, her neighbors greeted her with hugs and gifts to celebrate her return. They even greeted Erik warmly when she introduced him as her husband.

"I thought you said you were widowed!" Exclaimed the old woman, embracing the masked stranger like a long lost son. "It's good to meet you Sir."

"I thought I was!" Shoshana laughed in her defense, watching Erik struggle with the unusual display of affection from a stranger.

"It's good to meet you too, Madame," Erik promised, embracing the woman gently and shaking he old man's hand when offered it. "I've heard much about the both of you, my wife is very fond. But if you don't mind, it's been a very long journey."

The pair moved inside the apartment, and Shoshana breathed in deeply. "Home sweet home," she smiled, and began to pull the sheets off the furniture. Erik helped her, folding the sheets carefully as Shoshana snaked her arms around her husband from behind. "What do you think?"

"I think I love you, and that wherever you are is my home. Other than that, I think it's perfect," he promised his wife, turning in her arms to embrace her and kiss her soundly. Shoshana kissed her husband back, and pulled him by his collar back to the bed. They made love all day and well into the night, enjoying every moment of the first true day of their new life together. They made up for twenty years of loneliness in one day, and without telling Erik Shoshana wrote their daughter first thing in the morning, inviting her and her husband to dinner. All day she cooked, preparing every dish in her repertoire to the best of her ability. Erik could do little more than watch her in her perfectly choreographed madness, smiling privately as she seemed to dance about the kitchen, adding ingredients to one pan and putting another on the fire, stirring the pot of soup with one hand as she turned over a piece of beef in a pan with the other.

Erik couldn't resist moving behind his wife as she cooked, grabbing one of her hands to pull her into a waltz. Neither of them noticed the door open and close, until a young woman of nearly twenty years old spoke from near the door. "…Papa?" The pair froze mid-dance and looked to the couple that had just walked in the door. Shoshana laced her fingers with her husband and smiled to herself, but Erik was far more tense.

Sarina broke away from her husband and ventured forward with a dancer's gait, slow and calculated. She approached the masked man with a furrowed brow, inspecting him carefully. Cupping his face carefully, she frowned. Something was different than she remembered; her mother had told her about the mask he always wore… but a mask was not what she remembered. With the utmost care, Sarina pulled the mask from the man's face. Erik's posture changed noticeably, and his gaze lowered to the floor. Shoshana kissed her husband's shoulder to comfort him. A hand moved to Sarina's mouth and tears filled her eyes, but the emotion in her heart was far from fear and disgust. She threw her arms around the man's neck with gusto, hugging him tightly. "Oh Papa, it really is you!"

After s stunned moment of silence, Erik hugged his daughter in return and nearly sobbed. "Mon petit ange, how I've missed you," he promised quietly, never wanting to let her go. Everything was right in the world. Erik was with his family, once again the most blessed man in the world, and nothing would ever change that.


End file.
